New Beginnings
by elli-jollywogs
Summary: The war is over and Hermione and Draco both have new lives. What happens when they come across each other four years later, at a muggle bar, and set everything straight? Rated M HG/DM- ON HIATUS!
1. Admit You Have A Problem

A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Song is "Succexy" By: Metric

Chapter 1- Admitting You Have a Problem

They had lost it. There was something there, in the beginning, she thought to herself. Now, there was something missing. It would be a complete lie if she had said that this wasn't perfect. But it would be another if she said she was happy.

Hermione sat in her king sized hammock looking up at their tiny brick house, covered in vines. She had always dreamed of this. This house, her career, her fiancée. She turned over to the man lying beneath her. His short red hair, his pale skin, his bright blue eyes; almost sleeping soundly. He had never looked so child like than he had at that exact minute. So vulnerable, and for a single moment, Hermione had wished that she wasn't slowly breaking his heart.

There was no spark and no passion. They loved each other, Hermione knew that. But deep down inside, they both had known that there was no turning this around. The endless nights of silence had driven her to the edge. She needed a change and Ron had quickly realized this. He could never be the man he used to be when they had first met. Now they fought, bickered, and snapped at each other. They eventually managed to make up, but just barely, and that killed Hermione. She believed that she could be anything she wanted to be. He believed that it would take years and hard dedication to even make a difference. She believed that the stars could tell her what she lived for each day. He had believed that no one could. The world was a vast, magical place to Hermione. To him, it was full of heartache and pain. He felt like that more often now. It had been hard without Harry. They were exact opposites in retrospect. Hermione said it was because she was hopeful. She thought that everything could be explained by a distinct, made up constellation and a few simple adjectives. Ron had blamed her unrealistic beliefs. But despite their differences they had made it work for four long years.

Ron entangled his fingers in Hermione's hair, combing it behind her ear. She smelled of lavender, and it soothed him. Whenever he was around her, he was calm. She looked up, placing her small, warm hand, against his cheek, as she fought to hold back tears.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione whispered gently. Ron shifted underneath her, the rope burning into his back. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. He wanted the pain and the suffering to be over. She meant everything to him, why she didn't feel the same way was beyond him.

They had gotten engaged last year. They were only 23. Hermione had always knew that she loved Ron. She thought she had fallen head over heels in love with him. When she looked at him, her stomach was full to capacity with butterflies. When they kissed, her heart stopped. At least, that's what it had felt like before.

Ron really didn't know what to say. He could explain to her that it was over; that he wanted her to leave, and never come back. He was willing to storm into the house and pack her bags for her, throwing them out to the curb. A small, insignificant part of him longed to. Another part wanted to plead to the Godric, to Merlin, for more time. Ron had thought that maybe he could fix this, but Hermione knew it was hopeless. Deep down, Ron knew this, too.

"We need to end this." Ron stifled a yawn in the glow of the moon. Hermione, alarmed at his statement, merely rounded her back upwards to face him. A tear ran slowly down her pale pink cheek. _Did he really think that our problems were that boring, and dry? _Hermione wiped her own tear away and looked back upwards, towards the night sky. The stars twinkled brightly in her sodden eyes. "I can pack my things and stay at Geor-" He had been about to say the he would stay at George and Angelina's but hermione had cut his sentence short with a desperate attempt to kiss him. She wanted to feel something, anything. Ron breathed in through his nose and smelt the vanilla in her garden. His head spun and he raised his hand towards the back of her neck, breathing in her enticing scent, deepening their kiss. Her soft lips and perfect smile. He thought back to the day they had met in First year, dirt covered the bridge of his nose. He still smiled remembering her attitude- something she had never outgrown. He remembered how they had both fallen for each other during the war. How strong their bond was, right after Harry had died, when everything seemed too messed up to be fixed. Now, he felt nothing, and he knew secretly that she didn't either. Hermione leaned away slowly. Ron merely settled his head back against the hammock and dropped his hands to his side, sighing. Hermione tried, hopelessly, to feel again what it had been like. She brushed her hand against his, and he slid it out from underneath her, rocking the hammock. He was leaving. She could call out to him, and he would most likely return inside, barely noticing her desperate attempt to keep him longer. So Hermione decided to stay outside, lying in the comfort of the sizzling stars. She could fall asleep like this in the warm breeze with the juniper and vanilla. Maybe long enough to keep herself from stopping him pack his things.

She had.

The house was empty when Hermione woke, although she knew it was going to be, and she had this odd feeling of relief blanket her mind and relax her muscles at the thought of not having to watch Ron leave. She didn't cry and she didn't grieve. She only sat in silence and remembered everything they had done together. The past four years gone by in a blur, and she knew that was not how love was supposed to feel. Anyone could see that, but Hermione sensed that she was blinded. Blinded by what she had assumed was a healthy relationship. Her friends were _somewhat_ supportive of their relationship. Her parents had only slightly approved of Ron for their only daughter, and Ron had only somewhat deserved it. Hermione realized she needed a man who could be there for her like Ron was, but more so, and she felt this feeling of complete and total aloneness wash over her like a tidal wave. First lapping at her feet and then consuming her entire body. She was pulled into the ocean by the undertow.

Sure, Hermione could finally go out with her friends and see her family. She finally had the house to herself and she could work without hearing grief about it, but she missed having someone to fall asleep next to. Someone that would hold her and kiss her and make her forget all the bad things. But she had missed that while she was dating Ron, as well.

Hermione sat at her kitchen table, thumbing through an old magazine. She skimmed over each page, barely absorbing the articles, until she reached one with a cheery faced bride. That could have been her. The wedding dress, the old traditions, the warm sense of belonging when you finally get to kiss one another. That all could have been hers. Hermione didn't really know if she wanted it anymore. Twenty three was a young age to be engaged, thinking about spending the rest of your life with the same person, but Hermione had been so sure. At least, she thought she was sure. Now her world had disintegrated. Everything she had once known had vanished, and in an instant, the blazing stars had turned on her.

It helped a lot to remember all the bad things. The arguments that they would have, the nights when Hermione would be out with her friends and know she and Ron would fight once she got home, the fact that he hated her having a job. It all helped her to realize that she would eventually consider herself better off. Not just yet, though. Hermione had tonight to hang out with her friends to take her mind off of things. She had a feeling that she would keep going out, drinking, until she knew. Until she knew that she could finally go to her empty house, alone, and sleep without the nightmares.

Hermione tossed the magazine aside and waited patiently for her two best friends to arrive. She had known Katie and Angela since her schooling after Hogwarts. They had known Ron for as long as they knew Hermione, but they felt no obligation to treat him in a friendly manner. So when they had heard the news, both Angela and Katie had volunteered to take Hermione out. To ultimately, set her mind at ease. Most likely after involving a few drinks.

"Were are you, love? You were supposed to be ready by 9:30, it's going on ten, and-" Katie cut her sentence short to gaze up at the stop of a long set of stairs. Hermione had began walking down to meet her friends in her living room so that they could go out. Her long black tank top, and tight straight jeans contoured her thin body perfectly. They complimented what little curves she had, and her long, wavy brown hair was pinned behind her one ear with a barrette. "You look lovely, Hermione!" exclaimed Katie. Angela had joined them within seconds and stared adoringly at her best friend.

"Absolutely wonderful," She sighed. Hermione blushed deep crimson, and continued to flock down the stairs.

"Can we just get out of here? This house is making me anxious enough I could loose myself right here." Hermione tucked a loose piece of her long brown hair behind her ear, and both her friends broke out in a fit of giggles. Soon enough, Hermione had joined in as well. It felt good to laugh. Almost like nothing had changed.

(Listen to "Succexy" By: Metric)

Katie drove, fast at that, probably so that they could forget sooner. The music blared, as the wind made Hermione's hair dance. The bar was local, and She had never been there. She blamed Ron.

It was perfect, like one of those movies. The bars that have an old juke box machine, that play old country songs. Katie, Angela and Hermione sat along the bar atop high stools, and made casual conversation with the old bartender, although Hermione's mind had been somewhere else. The old woman, most likely leaning towards 50, was short and plump. Her dark gray hair, twisted up in a chignon bun, revealing her leathery copper skin. She continued to make drinks all night. Hermione had finally begun to listen intently to her life story. If Mathelda, the bartender, could make it through all that she had, Hermione had no doubts in her mind about herself.

Hermione teetered cautiously over to the juke box to look at the songs, not bothering to pick any one. A group of young men whistled at her as she examined each of their faces. She winked casually and walked back to the bar. Hermione had had a lot to drink. More than she would ever had allowed herself. She was not thinking about Ron, and that was good for her, but she was also not very skilled at walking now. She wouldn't make it. She knew that much for sure, so Hermione sat at the opposite end of the bar, away from her friends. They all giggled, and Mathelda joined along. Hermione turned her head slowly to order another drink from the bartender managing this end, which was slightly more crowded than over by Mathelda. A young man, dressed in a tight black, long sleeve t-shirt and black pants spun around swiftly.

"What would you like?" He asked.

It was amazing to Hermione how someone so beautiful would work in a small local pub. As a bartender, nonetheless. His eyes sparkled as he waited for her answer. But she couldn't speak, not yet. Not until she drank in as much of his unnatural beauty as she could. The man shifted his weight. His Bright, short blonde hair disheveled; his warm green eyes raked over Hermione's torso. Hermione was speechless. Ron told her she was beautiful. But her natural brown waves, warm honey eyes, and pale skin couldn't hold a candle to the man that stood impatiently in front of her. He smiled, a dazzling white smile. His perfect pink lips pulled up to the sides of his pale cheek. Hermione was astonished. "You need another minute?" He laughed half-heartedly. Hermione was broken out of her trance. His voice flowed peacefully in through one ear, and out the other, like music. She knew who this was. It was amazing he couldn't remember her, though.

Hermione was rough. She knew she was rough. Her normal hair, her pale, pale skin, her fragile figure. She shook her head, embarrassed. He leaned up closer to the counter, and looked deep into her eyes, holding her gaze. He thought she might have been familiar. Hermione held her arms tight across her chest, to ease the butterflies fluttering inside of her stomach.

"I just need another shot. Vodka," She stated confidently, still not daring to look him in the eyes. The man knit his eyebrow forward and looked closely at Hermione, shaking his head wildly.

"No, I don't think you do," he laughed. Hermione opened her mouth wide, waiting for the words to spill out of her. He looked so closely to her, she was astonished that he had not remembered her. But she did. She remembered him. That's why the anger flowed so easily.

"Excuse me?" She questioned loudly. Mathelda looked up from where Angela and Katie were sitting, all of them laughing wildly. Hermione was sure it was because of her outburst and sunk her head in embarrassment, opting to toy with a coaster. It was too hard to look him in the eye. The man laughed at her once again, while rage boiled inside Hermione. She had been through enough tonight. Hermione thought of Ron then. She was hurting enough. A tear threatened to spill over the top of her eyelid, as she heard Mathelda yelling across the bar to the man.

"Come on Draco, just give her what she wants. She's having a rough night." Hermione smiled brightly at Mathelda's words, and shifted her gaze over to Draco. A small sarcastic smirk pulled itself across the side of her pale, rose coloured cheek.

"Whatever you say, Mathelda," He replied back, coolly. He popped open the lid to another beer bottle and lunged it forward on the table. Hermione took a large swig and tapped it down to the top of the bar. It tasted funny. Draco smiled. She was too drunk to realize it was non-alcoholic. Hermione looked forward to the bartender. He smirked devilishly, and continued to make all sorts of drinks for people. People who most likely, didn't need anymore to drink. Hermione finished off the last of her beer, and decided she could finally walk far enough to rejoin Angela and Katie. She stood up and teetered over around the edge of the bar, but slunk down instead of walking confidently over to her two best friends, who were in a fit of loud obnoxious laughter. Hermione wondered to herself what they could possibly be laughing at, and prayed to Merlin that it wasn't her. She had never been this drunk before. Hermione pulled her knees close to her chest and nodded off slightly. "No you don't," Draco demanded, trying to pull Hermione to her feet. His strong arms were warm and hard as they wrapped around her body. Hermione pleaded with him to let her sit for just one minute longer. He said no. Hermione's anger grew. She was never good at controlling her rage.

"Malfoy, get your hands off of me!" She cried, as she forced his arm away from her, and slid back down the side of the bar. Her mind spun fast as she placed head in between her knees.

"Granger." Draco snorted, heaving Hermione up onto her feet to face him once again. She had forgotten how tall he was. Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and walked her into the back room, supporting almost all of her weight with his warm, pale arms. Hermione stumbled to the sink and placed both hands on each side. The room titled sideways and she readjusted her head so that everything was straight again. That's when her world flipped upside down.

Draco wrapped his arms around her, and quickly turned the cold water on. He had so many questions. So many things he needed to know Why was she having a rough night? How had she been? Where was The Weasel? What had she been doing all these years? And how was it that she was so damn beautiful now? He had barely recognized her.

Instead, he pulled Hermione's wrists under the water, and help a damp towel to her head, as she sat, mused, atop an old bar stool. The water dropped from the towel down Hermione's face and cooled every pore. She closed her eyes momentarily, and leaned her head against back wall. She remembered the first night of the battle. The final battle raged on for days, the rain staining her memory. Se used to love the rain. She hated it now. The closest she could get to thinking about it without crying, because someone was finally taking care of her again, and even if she knew who it was, and objected, for once she wasn't alone.

Draco set the towel down and ran his hand across Hermione's forehead, lapping up the extra water.

"How are you?" He asked, smiling the way he had earlier, flashing his bright white teeth. It drove Hermione insane and she suddenly felt unsure of herself again. She nodded, not daring to look him in the eye. Not just yet.

"I can't believe this." She said, face geared towards to floor. All her securities were tossed out with the wind and she took a brief moment to search his beautiful face and look deeply into his warm grey eyes. She melted. Everything inside her was soft and milky and for a moment Hermione had forgotten all about who it was who was taking care of her and Ron.

Hermione tossed her head back and closed her eyes as she thought once more of Ron, Draco glided gracefully from beside the drunken girl to the fishbowl window on the back-room door, and upon returning leaned down beside Hermione again.

"Granger, I think your friends left."

Hermione jumped quickly out of her seat and instantly regretted her motion. She swayed back and forth until she finally felt Draco's warm arms wrap around her, forcing her back into her chair.

"It's alright, I told Mathelda I would drive you home if they left." Hermione shook her head. She knew who he was, and she knew that there would be some kind of catch to all of this. He was acting too nice now. No way would she forget that he was once a Death Eater.

I'm not sur-possed to drive with strangers." Hermione slurred, dragging each word out. Draco laughed, and nodded. 'That was the best excuse I could manage?' Hermione thought. 'No sarcastic, witty, clever comment like I used to dish out?'

Then again, Hermione was fully aware that she was not the girl she had been back at Hogwarts.

"You are absolutely right, but you know exactly who I am, and the quicker we get you home the faster you'll be able to sleep this off." Draco replied easily, as he whisked Hermione away from the bar stool, out the back room and across the bar before she had any time to object.

She would not forget who he was.

Hermione finally noticed how many girls were gawking at Draco's beauty, as he pulled her outside of the room. It's only natural she supposed. He was insanely… attractive.

What was she saying? This was definitely the alcohol talking. Hermione had realized that Draco hadn't said a nasty word to her all night. He hadn't called her one derogatory name, or made fun of her like he used to. He appeared to be a changed man. But Hermione knew that was next to impossible for someone like him.

Hermione waved wildly at Mathelda before Draco dragged her outside of the bar, and rested her body inside his old truck. Hermione closed her eyes again, and followed her head, spinning, spiraling. She didn't want him to let go of her waist. She didn't want him to take his eyes off of her. His warm, brilliantly green- grey eyes. It was torture, and Hermione was more than difficult getting into the truck, for fear that he would let go. Because, after all, that wouldn't be the first time someone had simply let her go.

The road, the trees, and the lines strewn across the streets followed, and flooded past the car. Draco drove slower than both her friends and in the wrong direction. Hermione hitched her small white thumb behind her and pointed out the back window. "My house is that way." She said flatly. Draco laughed, and slowly began turning around, after muttering a string of light profanities and something having to do with a waste of gas. Hermione secretly wondered how long he had worked in a bar. How long had he been the innocent Draco he had appeared to be now? The one that was driving her home, to her house, in his muggle car. How long had he been buying gas?

Hermione shook her head. "I'm confused," she stated simply. Draco laughed again, loudly, and Hermione only placed her cheek against the cold window, trying to pull herself back down to earth. It was nice for a moment. Draco stole a quick glance at the girl in his front seat. She was beautiful. Not like at Hogwarts. Her hair was long, and cascaded down her back, her clothes finally enveloped her body satisfactorily. No more robes. No more inter-house rivalry. He hardly believed that she could forgive all the things he had done to her. He didn't think she could forgive him for anything. He was a changed man. That much he knew. But she would never believe him.

"I'm not the same guy I was back at Hogwarts," He sighed. Hermione laughed at this.

"So you're not going to drive me out to the middle of nowhere, kill me and then dump my body somewhere where no one will find me?" Hermione laughed again, but Draco looked forward seriously, and then he turned to her. Their eyes locked, and Hermione could see just how serious Draco was. Maybe he was changed. Maybe five years out of Hogwarts showed him that there was another way. There was another route. One that was good and whole and pure. The light.

"It's this one, right here." Hermione pointed to her tiny brick house, covered in vines with the wild jungle of a garden. Empty. Draco pulled up to Hermione's driveway, and came around to open her door for her. Hermione stumbled out of the car, and thanked him for driving her home.

"Are you alright to go inside?" Draco asked, tilting her chin up to him.

Hermione laughed. "Nice try," she slurred, smiling widely. Draco smirked. That was the same smirk from Hogwarts. The same smug smirk that appeared right after he called her a-

"Mudblood." Hermione shook her head back and forth and took her head in her hands.

"What?" Draco yelled. Hermione moved her finger to his lips.

"Shhh! You're going to wake my neighbors up!" She whispered. Draco looked baffled. Had she just called herself a mudblood?

"Granger are you alright?" Draco asked. He seemed truly concerned. Hermione couldn't talk about anything right now. Her life was falling apart, and then piecing itself back together quicker than she had time to breathe. With Ron and Draco and Katie and Angela and the alcohol, which she had to admit, helped.

But not without turning her life upside down. So that everything that felt familiar to Hermione was far away. Draco grabbed her elbow and turned her around and she walked up to her porch. "Granger!"

Hermione turned to face the man she once knew. A man she was sure for years was dead, or lounging in his manor while poor little house elves waited on his hand and foot. But here he stood. A living contradiction to everything she had once believed. Nothing was right anymore. He was here now, in front of her empty house, helping her drunken self to her front door. That much had changed, but for the better. He was a good guy now, and better looking than she could have ever imagined. That's why she kept her head down. She was to scared to look him in the eye. She would get lost in him, and she knew it.

"Granger! Are you going to answer me?" Draco shouted, ignoring her warning concerning waking her neighbors. She simply snorted. There was no way that this was happening. She was dreaming. That was it. She was having a very, upsetting, confusing dream about Draco Malfoy. It was only natural. She hadn't seen him in four years. Not since the war. But when Draco touched her it all felt so real. Thoughts ran wild through her head. She could smell him. She could feel him. He was there, but it was a dream. It had to be.

"I'm fine," Hermione mumbled under her breath. She couldn't stand up on her own. She knew she wasn't going to make it upstairs to her comfortable bed, but despite everything he had said about being a changed man, Hermione still didn't trust Draco to walk her upstairs. Who cared, really? She would be alone in her bed anyways. And it was just a dream, right?

A small tear spilled over the edge of her eyelid, running down Hermione's rose colored cheek. Draco simply took her in his arms, and walked her up, into her house. It was comfortable. Something he had envisioned she would attain after graduating. Her own house. Hermione was the most independent girl he had ever known. This house had mimicked her. Across the front door, resting across her wall were numerous shelves full of books, brimming over until you could no longer see the bottom half of her wall. How Hermione.

Draco pulled Hermione past her couch, upstairs, into her bedroom. It wasn't hard to find, so Hermione wasn't surprised. She sat down on her bed, and placed her head in her hands. Draco kneeled down beside her, pulling stray pieces of hair out of her face. She laid back, and pulled her snow white and peach silk blanket around her body after taking her shoes off.

Hermione took Draco's face in her hand and searched for his eyes in the dark of her empty house. But they were so bright it was far from impossible. Draco looked baffled down at his old enemy pulling the black barrette out of her hair and setting it on her night stand. As long as this was a dream, Hermione would take advantage of it.

"What happened to you?" Hermione wondered aloud. She hadn't been sure if she was talking to Draco or herself. Either way, she figured she wouldn't get the truth. Draco smiled, and pressed his hand against hers.

"I've changed. And from the looks of it, so have you…" Draco said, looking Hermione's body up and down, drinking in every one of her features. Hermione blushed.

"You're right, I have changed. But that's not so hard to believe as what you're telling me. Draco Malfoy, the death eater, is now a bartender?" She giggled unconsciously, and Draco sheltered his serious expression even more so now.

"I'm going to muggle school now, too. To be a doctor." Draco stated, matter-of-factly. Hermione burst into an outrageous fit of laughter, tears cascading down her face.

"The infamous death eater is going to MUGGLE school, to be a doctor? Someone who saves lives on a daily basis?" Hermione only laughed harder at this and pulled Draco's sleeve up past his forearm, baring the large ominous dark mark. Hermione's laughter died down as she ran her fingers up and down the mark. Draco sighed.

"I didn't expect you to be able to forgive the things I've done, but I've changed." Draco pulled his arm away from her, but Hermione acted quickly. She held a strong, forceful grip over Draco's bicep, and he fell senselessly onto the bed, as she pulled him over besides her. Before he could process what was happening, Hermione took his face in between her cold, small hands and kissed him. It wasn't angry, or drunken and careless like Draco had expected it to be, but more so warm and soft. Hermione felt a surge of heat pass over her body. Draco entangled his hands into Hermione's soft brown hair, and deepened their kiss. It was a powerful force that bound the two of them together, and they were more than willing to let it overtake them both, The control had shocked them both, and before the moment threatened to become any more intense, it was over. Draco broke their kiss, gasping for breath, and walked briskly out of her house, leaving her alone once again.

Hermione still knew this was a dream. It wasn't so bad that she couldn't walk herself up her own stairs, or get a ride form Angela and Katie to her house. She wasn't so drunk that she would willingly kiss Draco Malfoy. That was the most logical explanation for what she had just experienced. There was no way that she had seen her ancient enemy in a muggle bar, and heard that he had changed that much. It was that simple.

If only she could believe that with all of her heart…


	2. Help! I'm Alive

A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Song- "Too little too late" By: Metric

Chapter 2- Help, I'm alive

Draco drove back to the bar as fast as he could, trying desperately not to think of Hermione. It wouldn't be fair to him, he thought. Girls flocked to him. He had no trouble finding a decent woman once in a while. Only to shag them, and never speak to them again. It was for the best that she would never come to know the real Draco. The new Draco. It's not like he had a chance to show off his new persona anyways. She would never give him the chance. Not if he knew Hermione Granger like he thought he did. Which seemed meaningless when he thought back to the kiss. Now he believed he didn't know her like he thought he had. She was still as stubborn as ever. Even more so than him. But it hurt him. To know that the only girl he would ever want to prove himself to, would never give him the chance. A low growl escaped Draco's lips. Not thinking about Hermione was proving to be more difficult than he had ever imagined.

It was that she had changed so much. Even if she wasn't in the most- well state, she still lacked bite. Something was wrong. She almost seemed to have trusted Draco. She had barely enough intuit to break off the kiss before it had gotten too out of hand. He knew she hadn't trusted him, really, but now he was uncertain in so many ways.. The old Hermione would have never allowed this.

She would be at home, reading.

If she had seen Draco she would have been appalled, or more than likely, would have hexed him into oblivion, rather than kissed him senselessly. That was the Hermione he knew.

The Draco she knew, would have killed her. Simple as that. He was a death eater. She knew he couldn't have changed. But Draco did, and every day he ached for what he had done. Hermione didn't know that, and she probably never would.

"This bar seems much farther away that I remember," Draco spat, thinking deeply. He recalled Hogwarts and the brainy, bushy-haired girl that made his life hell. He laughed at the thought of Hermione then, and Hermione now. It was an amazing contrast. There was no way that could have been her. Maybe he had been dreaming the entire time. Maybe he had never even seen her. Maybe the war had made him crazy. It was, after all, plausible. But Draco ran a long finger across his lips and still felt her linger there. Ice cold against his warm skin.

Draco walked back inside the small pub, behind the counter to join Mathelda. Girls began to hound senselessly to the bar and order frilly drinks, tipping him heavily. Draco couldn't stomach it anymore. He couldn't stop thinking of Hermione. If she was the same girl he knew back at Hogwarts, he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. She would never step foot in this bar again. Mathelda eyed Draco and knew immediately to help calm his edge of the bar. Something was bothering him, and Mathelda had a feeling it had something to do with the drunken girl he escorted home only moments ago. He knew that girl, and from the looks of it, she had known him, too.

"Draco, love, can I ask you something?" Mathelda beamed, wiping her old copper skin, with the back of her hand. Draco nodded, in a daze. "What exactly is the story here," She said, pointing to Draco's drained face. He merely sighed, and clicked off the top of another beer bottle, passing it to yet another brainless bint. "Doll, it's very plain to see. So why don't you spare me the act, and just tell me what the devil is goin' on with you." Mathelda held a bottle of black vodka in her small, liverspotted hand, and looked up at Draco who sighed, again.

What was he supposed to say, exactly? I went to Hogwarts- You know, the school for witch's and wizard's and met this girl there. She bloody well drove me insane, and I saw her again tonight, the drunken mess I carted home. Except neither of us seem to be the same. Yet we both believe that we're never able to change from what we were back in school. And She was by far the most attractive girl I've ever seen, but she couldn't even look me in the face.

No, that wouldn't work.

"I don't know, Mathelda, I knew that girl from, err, school, but we used to hate each other." Draco passed a lemon drop to a young blonde girl sitting at his counter. Mathelda laughed and shook her head.

"She didn't look as though she hated you tonight, love." Mathelda said brightly. Draco laughed.

"You'd have to know her-" But Mathelda cut Draco short.

"Love, She could barely look you in the face without gawking, very publicly might I add, and she was barely half as drunk as she made it seem. Although she was quite bad…" Mathelda trailed off. Draco thought for a moment. Hermione Granger did not gawk. As far as he could tell, Hermione Granger was never really interested in guys. That is, other than the Weasel. But even that was faulty, as far as he could tell. No Hermione Granger was simply mortified. That was it. "Hun, I can see the doubt in your eyes. It wasn't hard to see, she was definitely not hating you tonight." Mathelda laughed heartily, but Draco continued to doubt himself and the situation. There was no way. "But I guess we'll really find out tomorrow, when she comes back for this." Mathelda stated, pointing to a small black clutch, perched behind the cash register.

"That's hers?" Draco frowned.

Mathelda simply nodded. "Mhmm, sugar."

So it wasn't a dream…

Hermione ran frantically around her house, ripping apart every single piece of furniture she had. Her books had been strewn across the floor, her cupboards bare and open, her sheets and blankets tangled into a big heap at the end of her mattress. Last night couldn't have possibly been a dream, but she refused to believe it.

That purse held her wallet, which in turn held everything she needed for work tomorrow. Her Teacher I.D badge, her credit cards, her license. Not to mention, her cell phone, and all of her money. As much as Hermione objected to going back to that bar, it was blatant that she was obligated. By her purse, of course.

Hermione, still running frantically managed to put her clothes on, and grab her keys off of the counter. It was so… bright. Hermione's head throbbed painfully as she slammed her fist on her kitchen counter, with a frustrated grunt. An ear piercing crack resonated through the small cottage. Glass splinters fell in pieces around Hermione's hand, as blood began to seep out of her translucent skin. A picture frame lay on her counter.

It wasn't actually from that long ago, but it felt like it had been taken so far back. In a place that Hermione was familiar with. Where everything seemed to be perfect, all at once. And then it was broken. It had been taken around Christmas time. Hermione and Ron where smiling and waving gleefully through the golden frame. Maybe it was a good thing she had broken it. Happiness didn't exist like that anymore in Hermione's world. There was to much hurt.

Hermione drove speedily to the small pub, her head and her hand throbbing intensely. No music to ease her, no wind to make her feel free. Just dull, bland silence, and under the circumstances Hermione didn't seem to mind at all. She prayed that Draco would not be there today. That she would run into Mathelda, who would in turn allow her to drink whatever she pleased. Today was not going to be a day that Hermione could manage sober. Hermione's thoughts ran wild through her head, and she needed something to drown them out.

She had arrived much to quickly for her liking and sat patiently in her car. The truck was parked outside, confirming everything she had denied last night. It would help if I could barely remember, she thought. But it was all there, laid out fresh in her mind. Hermione walked slowly up to the bright red metal truck, sunglasses hanging loosely off of the bridge of her nose, her hair twisted wickedly around her small face. It was all still there, and her mind seemed to be working on overdrive now.

She wore all black. A tight black cardigan, loose black slacks, and black sunglasses. Maybe he would never know it was her. Maybe she could walk in, grab her purse from Mathelda, if she was even there, and bolt to the door, never looking back. It was a possibility, yet Hermione felt strangely drawn to a small bar stool. Hermione knew Mathelda was not present. In fact, at the moment, no bartender seemed to be present. Relief pulsed through Hermione, filling each vain with a calming and tranquil liquid. That seared up and through her body so that when Draco did finally appear, it wasn't half bad. The calm was still draped over her, and she still bore her large black sunglasses. Draco could see right through her lousy disguise, reached behind the counter to retrieve the tiny black clutch, and carelessly tossed it to Hermione. That was the Draco she had grown to know and despise. Careless, cold-hearted and downright rude.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me if I'd like something to drink?" Hermione spat sarcastically.

Draco turned around suddenly and rested mere inches from Hermione's face. She gulped as he adopted the same devilish smirk he had always harbored. "What do you want?" He asked slyly.

There wasn't an exception to it this time. Hermione couldn't breathe with him that close to her face. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes spread wide. It was to hard to sit still and give him an answer without staring at him. His amazing features, and his toned body. Draco sat up and ran a large hand through his short blonde hair, laughing. Hermione wasn't sure but she thought she had heard Draco mutter something along the lines of 'Maybe Mathelda was right'.

He never got her a drink, although the bar was dead. There was absolutely nobody there, besides Hermione. She had figured it would be so. The pub was located in the middle of nowhere, and it was a Sunday afternoon. Draco didn't converse with her, he could barely look her in the face. Neither of them dared to speak, or cared enough to make eye contact- only because it was to hard to break. Finally, Hermione rested her cheek on the edge of the cold bar and sighed. The glaze from the countertop cooling her face. Draco slid a glass of ice water towards her, and Hermione lifted her head cautiously.

"Thanks," she muttered quietly. Draco only nodded.

"So, I never got to ask you any questions last night…" Draco stated. Hermione wasn't sure if she should adopt her old ways and tell him off, or accept the fact that he may have very well changed. She opted for the latter.

"What do you want to know?" Hermione asked charmingly.

Draco shook his head . "I want to know why you could barely step foot into your own house last night."

Hermione chose now to be defensive. The calm still floated tranquilly through her body, but she couldn't answer that question.

"Next question," she stated simply. Draco didn't argue, he merely nodded his head respectfully.

"What happened to you and The Weasel?" Draco wondered aloud. There was no avoiding it. And although it was a nosy question, Hermione felt deeply compelled to answer. Draco would most likely find out anyways. She tended to have a rather large mouth when she was drunk.

The most amazing part about him asking was that Hermione felt strangely at ease. She wasn't worked up, or on the verge of tears. She felt she could honestly answer the question, and still be able to look Draco in the eye with confidence. She wouldn't fall apart.

"We broke up. After dating four very long years, we both decided to end it." Hermione almost laughed. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. In fact, it barely hurt her to come to this realization at all. But Hermione figured that once she was freed of Draco's company she would feel the gaping hole that just ripped across her heart. Without a doubt.

"Oh," Draco murmured. Hermione did laugh at this

"Is that all the questions you had in mind?" She giggled. Draco simply nodded his head again.

"What have you been doing all these years?" Draco wondered aloud. Hermione took a deep breath, ready to explain herself, when a young, tall blonde woman walked casually into the bar. She looked around for a moment, spotted Draco, and walked nonchalantly over to the edge of the bar. Draco huffed quietly, and held up his finger, signifying that he needed a moment.

Draco stomped angrily over to the blonde woman and rested his arms on top of the bar counter, dangerously close to her face. Hermione could hear inaudible amounts of the conversation. It was enough for her, though. She felt the hole rip slightly open in her chest, causing a burn to surge all throughout her body.

"What do you want Francesca?" Draco spat. The blonde stared coolly, unaffected by his cold tone. She was undeniably beautiful. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, her almost teal eyes burned a hole in Hermione's forehead, and she wondered quietly to herself how long it would take her to disintegrate. Francesca ran a long finger over Draco's hand, still staring smugly at Hermione from across the bar. The sunglasses were good for her now. They hid the fear in Hermione's eyes well. Draco picked up the woman's hand and flung it back to the counter, leaning upwards as he did so. Francesca simply passed him a tiny, folded white paper across the counter, again, unaffected by Draco's coldness. She glided gracefully out of the bar, and Draco shoved the note in his back pocket, returning to Hermione.

"Sorry about that," he shook his head.

"It's no problem."

Hermione shuddered at the thought of the woman's odd beauty. She couldn't hold a candle to her, and she knew that. Hermione thought that she should leave, but Draco smiled brightly, and it had her planted firmly to her chair.

"Don't go," he sighed. Hermione laughed and leaned casually over the countertop. Draco smiled.

He had her, he thought. She would stay, and they could talk about things that they had missed. Hermione could talk about Hogwarts, and Draco could tell her exactly why he had left. That could talk about the good things, like what they had both been doing with their lives, and the bad things, like the war. Although neither of them could quite stomach it. The fact of the matter was, she was here, sitting across from him. In Draco's mind, that was all that mattered.

He wondered when things had changed so abruptly. In some odd, cosmic way he recalled the events of the war without cringing. He thought back to the day that changed his live. A day he could never forget.

It was dark. Of course, and you could hear the screams of wizard's and witch's alike. All the sounds molded together, and Draco shook his head violently from side to side, to drown out the sound. That's when he saw her. Hermione, standing within arms length of the deranged Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione was covered in blood, and looked so incredibly fragile. Even with her full strength in tact, he figured she still wouldn't have been able to withstand the power of the crafty witch.

"Crucio!" Hermione flung backwards into a tree, cowering at the base.

"Stupid mudblood," Draco whispered to himself. She was always getting herself into trouble.

As much as he wanted to believe she deserved this face off with one of the most dangerous Death Eaters ever, he couldn't help but feel plagued. Hermione wandered aimlessly to her feet, stumbling slightly.

"Poor little mudblood." Bellatrix taunted in her baby voice. "Potter can't save you now," She smiled ruthlessly and laughed to herself. "He can't save anyone now, can he?" That hit a nerve. Hermione shook. Draco saw her wand broken in half lying beside Bellatrix. She was doen for. Draco knew Hermione didn't stand a chance. Hermione knew this as well.

"Stupify!" Draco called. Bellatrix lunged backwards and the spell hit Hermione square in the chest. Draco's spell. It wasn't supposed to hit her. She was to weak to take this anymore.

"Nice job, kid" Bellatrix laughed, and raised her wand to finish Hermione off.

"No!" Draco yelled. Bellatrix turned around, smile disappearing underneath a vague expression of discontentment. "Allow me." Draco spat. He wondered how he had enough left in him to lie like that. She was a stupid, filthy mudblood. Why he was so concerned with whether or not she lived was beyond him. Bellatrix laughed loudly and glided away from the young girl who was slunk beside a large tree. Hermione's head moved impulsively and turned to look at Draco. A look of dread plastered on her face. He could see it in her eyes, as she began to plead for him to spare her.

"Just do it," she whispered aggresively. Draco looked at her. He hoped that his eyes helped give him away. He was wrong. Hermione thought he was going to torture him. Despite what she had just been through, Hermione's eyes were wild and crazy, raw with anger.

"Just kill me already!" Hermione screamed, tears spilling over the brim of her eye. "Please Draco." That was the first time she had used his first name.

For a moment Draco slipped back into his old state of mind, tugging Hermione's hair hard, so that her head hit the back of the tree, splintering the bark. She sobbed louder. He was in control. He had her life in the palm of his hand, and he could do with her what he desired.

"Please," Hermione begged. Draco's head was spinning. Right and wrong split his body in half. He didn't know what to do. He could spare her, or he could kill her. There was a large margin for error in respect to each decision.

"Shut up mudblood," Draco yelled. Satisfied, Bellatrix glided away from the two of them, leaving both, alone, cackling as she shot hexes at other Order members. Hermione whimpered. She was so unsure. The look in his eyes was something completely different than what his body had portrayed. There was hate there, but there was also something else. Hermione gritted her teeth. He had held her head so hard that it hurt the back of scalp. Blood trickled down the side of her face, and Draco wiped it away, loosening the grip he had on her hair. Her soft brown hair. The look in his eyes took command, and he ran a finger along the small line of blood that anchored her face in a confused expression. As suddenly as it had come, the small gash was washed away, with Draco's cold touch. He had healed her. And then left abruptly fast.

All Hermione had felt, was cold.

The counter felt fresh on her face again, as her head throbbed. Hermione lifted her head to shield her eyes from the bright light of the bar even more and winced in pain. She had forgotten about her hand. When Draco left to the backroom, everything flooded back to her painfully. Ron. The night out with Katie and Angela. The kiss with Draco.

He slithered gracefully across from Hermione, and took her hand in his own.

"What the bloody hell happened, Granger?" He questioned.

Hermione thought about her morning, but couldn't find the right emotions to help her remember everything correctly. She was mad? No. Sad? Upset? Neither.

She was hung over.

"I was, well-" Hermione paused. "I was really hung over, and my head was throbbing and I couldn't find my purse, and I was so angry… OW!" Hermione screamed in pain "Ouch," she whispered more quietly. Draco was now cleaning the wound with antiseptic and began wrapping the cut in gauze he had retrieved from under the counter.

"It's really not that bad," Hermione muttered, and Draco laughed. She winced again.

"Are you alright?"

"I think I'll live," Hermione whispered casually, admiring Draco's doctoring. Draco laughed again. Hermione had almost forgot that he was going to be a doctor. And she didn't remember that he could heal.

"I forgot," she murmured. Draco knew instinctively what she was talking about. And finished wrapping her cut in gauze.

'It's not so bad, you won't need stitches or anything. This should be fine here," He nodded towards her hand and she let it rest in the palm of his. She was so tiny compared to him. Draco Wrapped his fingers around her hand and squeezed gently. Hermione smiled.

She was done being polite, and she was done pretending like she owed him nothing. She did, and she knew that.

"I never got to say thank you, for… " Draco smiled, and it crushed her. Hermione couldn't finish her sentence. Draco laughed quietly to himself. A smirk spreading across his pale face. She knew that smirk.

"You don't have to mention it, I know I'm a good kisser." Hermione's eyes got wide, and she blushed scarlet. Draco laughed, louder this time. Leave it to him to ruin this moment. Hermione snorted.

Draco didn't really want her to thank him. He didn't deserve it. After all those years of his endless insults, his callousness, and bitterness. He had saved her literally, sure. But really, she had saved him. That was the night he had decided he had to leave Hogwarts. That was the night that he made up his mind to move out of his fathers house, out of his shadow. The night he saved her. Draco had learned there was a lighter side, and he wanted every part to do with it. So he refused to hear her thank him. He didn't want to believe that she owed him anything, which he was sure she thought. No, he owed her everything. He owed her his life.

"I should probably get going." Hermione gathered her purse and stepped lightly off of the bar stool. Draco ran a finger through his hair. 'God, he has changed so much' Hermione thought.

"Will you come back?" Draco asked, and Hermione smiled. It was a different feeling when he had actually said it. She wanted him to. Merlin, she wanted him to ask her so badly. But when he had she felt warm, and peaceful. Like she was surrounded by the thickness of summer. Of cotton candy and tall grass.

"Yes, I think I will," Hermione whispered. Draco smiled back and continued drying off a glass and set it back above the bar.


	3. Midsummer Night's Nightmare

A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Song- "Salt of the earth" By: Lovedrug

Chapter 3- A midsummer Night's Nightmare

"Alright, can anyone give a brief synopsis of the rest of the play?" Hermione looked at the blank and bewildered faces staring up at her. 'It's so much harder when you have nothing to work with' Hermione thought looking back towards her students who sat still, mindless, dazed.

"It was homework, you guys should have finished this play last night. I told you to be prepared to give me summaries," Hermione still received no participation from her students. The lack of enthusiasm had really taken its toll on her. This was Hermione's third English class of the day, and her eleventh years were never very quick to engage in class discussion.

Hermione scribbled some notes below the title 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' 'Essay,' was anchored in dusty yellow chalk, across the board. The students groaned in unison and shuddered when Hermione finally scratched across the black film the expected five page length.

"Unless you guys would care to participate? Or at least try?" Hermione urged. The students looked more than eager to answer any questions she had if it meant avoiding a five page paper.

"Alright," Hermione shouted enthusiastically. "Who can tell me why Oberon, the king of the fairies, is fighting with Titania, the queen?" A young girl resting off in the corner of the room raised her hand eagerly.

"It's because of the little boy," She muttered. "That magical one."

Hermione shook her head, "Yes, the changeling," she agreed, and thanked Merlin that her class was finally beginning to understand.

"It's not so boring and dry as you think it is." Hermione said, standing quickly on her feet, pacing the front of the classroom. "If you peel away all the old words, and figure everything out, it's so Humorous. Shakespeare meant for it all to happen this way. All the mayhem." Hermione looked appreciatively at the few students who raised their heads up to join in on the discussion.

"Ben," A boy shot up and glanced nervously around the room. "What did you find most funny about the book. No doubt we probably all feel the same way." Hermione smiled, as Ben ran his fingers over the back of his neck.

"I, um," Ben gulped loudly. "I just think it's funny how everything got so- err, messed up. With all the people falling in love with the wrong people. It was confusing, but funny at the same time." Ben shifted in his seat, eyeing his teacher admiringly, waiting for a response.

"Good answer," Hermione said coolly.

"Alright, so who can tell me why Hippolyta had to marry Theseus?" Hermione tried desperately to get more involvement out of her students. A boy beside Ben answered this time.

"Because he won a war against the Amazon. Theseus basically took Hippolyta as his prisoner of war since she was leader of the Amazons." He shook his head back and forth, harboring a smile. "Pretty kinky if you ask me."

The whole class burst out in a spurt of laughter, and Hermione couldn't help but implement a broad smile at her immature Eleventh years.

"Alright, alright, settle down," The class calmed suddenly and Hermione racked her brain for more questions that she had longed to ask her students. Ones that weren't directly out of her reading guide. Hermione thought quickly of a question all her own.

"Does anyone care to take sides… I know that when I read A Midsummer I instinctively chose to make a choice between Helena or Hermia. Did anyone feel the same way?" Some girls raised their hands enthusiastically. Hermione smiled once again.

"I think that Hermia was the most sensible," a young girl with short blonde hair shouted. "Helena needed to get over Demetrius. She was completely desperate."

At that moment Hermione thought back to Pansy Parkinson, the most annoying, unintelligent, monotonous girls she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. She was just as desperate as Helena appeared to be

"Alright, does anyone feel differently about that?" Hermione swung her head around the classroom and her eyes fell across a small girl sitting next to two boys, her long dark hair shining brightly. She smiled shyly.

"I think that Shakespeare made it out to be that Helena was more love struck than desperate." Some of the girls throughout the room snickered, but some looked rather compelled to listen. "No doubt she was dense, but I think maybe it was because she was so in love that she couldn't really see clearly?" A few of the girls stopped to listen intently to this young woman explaining.

The young girl with the dark hair continued self consciously. "All she wanted was for Demetrius to love her, that's all. It was never her fault that the two men both fell in love with her, but the fact that she thought it was a joke is heartbreaking." A few more girls whimpered. Hermione tried as hard as she could to disconnect this discussion from her private life. She tried hard not to warp the words around her and Ron and Draco, and everything that was happening. She just listened to the young girl speak relentlessly. Another student interjected.

"Sure she wanted to be loved, but don't you think she could have done everything a bit more… subtly. She was very clingy and despairing." Hermione smiled at all her students rousing to defend each of the main characters.

"Yeah, but look at the cards she's been dealt. Her friend is much prettier than her, betrothed to the only man she's ever loved, and has somebody else that has come in and swept her off her feet." The young girl with pixie short blonde hair, across the room, took time to fully let the words sink in before refuting.

"Yeah, but she could have very well brought it upon herself. Most of the pain she felt she was inflicting on her own accord. She chose to put herself through the agony of wanting someone she couldn't possibly have, and she chose to continue to pursue Demetrius, although she knew fully well that she was most likely going to get her heart broken." The girl smiled after her retort and shook her head matter-of-factly.

"Sometimes you can't help but do irrational things when you're in love. You act without restraint, you find yourself doing things you never thought you would. That's what real life does to a person. Helena was blinded, and she didn't deserve one bit to be treated the way she had been by Demetrius."

Both girls thought silently to themselves, and Hermione stood up in the front of the room.

"Well, I guess I can see now who read the book." The two girls laughed harmoniously, while the rest of the class moaned and looked guilty.

"Alright," Hermione sighed again tracing her steps back up to the blackboard. "I would like you all to complete a two page essay relating the comedy throughout the play. I expect them to be handed in first thing Friday" The students groaned again, and the bell panged sharply. The children filed out of the classroom leaving Hermione alone again.

"That went slightly better than I thought it would." Hermione smiled at the progress they had made today, and thought back to the two girls arguing each character. Those were the moments that made Hermione proud to be an English teacher.

Hermione pressed her cheek gently to her desk, against her large calendar. She had prep hour, this hour. A whole sixty minutes to herself to prepare for her next class. Now, maybe, since she was ready, she could get some sleep- seeing as how it had been so hard for her these past couple of nights, what with everything that had been going on. Hermione's eyes closed as a response to having her head rested against the desk, but she didn't really mind. In fact, Hermione welcomed the sleep. The lethargy draped over her, and soon enough, Hermione was in a deep slumber for what seemed like the rest of the school day.

(Listen to "Demonology and Heartache" By: Atreyu)

Draco's hand was entangled deep in her hair. Hermione suppressed a gasp. She didn't want to show Malfoy that she was weak. Who was she kidding, she could barely talk straight as she slurred her pleas. Draco kept his hands jostled in her hair as he bellowed at her to shut up. She just wanted it to be over. Hermione wanted the pain and the suffering to end. She wanted to see Ron. She wanted to go back to the burrow and see Mrs. Weasley and Fred and George and Mr. Weasley. She wanted to run to Ginny and tell her that everything was going to be alright. That Harry had loved her more than she could ever imagine, and he will always be remembered as a hero.

She wanted to see Harry. It was scary to Hermione, that she was welcoming death. But she was ready to see Harry once again.

Hermione began to sob uncontrollably as Draco ran a warm finger over her face. It felt like ice compared to how unnaturally cold her skin was. His touch sent shivers up and down her spine. Hermione cringed as she felt the wound closing shut, and the blood drying around the edges. Draco looked deeply into her eyes. Hermione couldn't say anything. She couldn't manage to speak at all. She was speechless. Partly because she was traumatized, but mainly as a result of what had just conspired.

A large, significant part of her had prayed that Draco would have just killed her. The other part was grateful she was alive Still. But the more dominant part reigned in favor of her eminent death. Hermione opened her mouth to shout it at him. To curse Malfoy for not killing her like he had wanted to all those years, but no matter how hard she had tried, she couldn't speak. She had yet to hear from any of the Weasley's and she prayed to Merlin that they were alright. She had heard word that Luna had perished, along with Susan Bones, a member of the order, and girl in her year. She knew that Voldemort had fallen, and the death eaters were trying feebly to cause as much chaos as they could, before being taken prisoner. She also knew that Harry was gone. Her best friend was gone, and he was never coming back.

Another sob escaped her cracked, bleeding lips, and Draco let go of his hold on her hair. She was no longer the Hermione he knew. The strong, courageous bookworm, that was ultimately better at him in so many more ways that she was aware of. She was weak and fragile and scared and hurt. Draco wasn't sure of what to do. All these years of doing the wrong things, he figured he would surely mess this up for her. Making it worse in a sense, if that was possible.

By the look in her eye, he wasn't sure if it could get any worse for her.

Hermione rubbed her scalp and stared up at Draco. Though her vision was slightly clouded she could see the pain in his eyes as well. She wasn't the only one that had to deal with casualties. Although she rarely cared if a death eater was killed, those were his friends and most importantly, his family. Just like Hermione.

Draco helped Hermione sit up, and looked deeply in her eyes. They were warm once, at some point. Now they were death. Cold and severe and empty. The eyes of someone who ached. Someone with no hope left. Hermione sat up, wincing in pain as she did so. Draco eyed around him nervously. If he had gotten caught, he couldn't even imagine the torturous things they were sure to do to him. He ran another warm finger across her pale cheek, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Don't get yourself killed," he murmured softly in her ear.

Hermione remembered that on a day full of sadness and hate, that voice echoed in her head like soft music, sifting itself elegantly though her ear drums. The most peaceful feeling she had ever experienced, and Hermione simply nodded.

In a moment Draco had vanished. Hermione did not move. She only sat in silence, thinking back to everything that had happened so quickly and unfortunately that day.

A day she would never forget, no matter how hard she tried.

Hermione slunk back to the tree and looked up at the stars. The stifled screams still nearby. She held her hands up to her chest and pressed her palms together.

"Merlin, please kill me," She whispered.

In the distance, a very distraught Draco Malfoy was praying the exact same thing.


	4. Healed

**A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter**

**Chapter 4- Healer**

**He may not have been as selfish, stuck-up, and as rude as he once was, but Draco Malfoy had no doubt in his made-up mind that something was wrong with him. At this moment though, he could have really cared less. **

**Draco walked confidently up to the door of Francesca Heroe's small apartment. His mind gratingly thinking back to Hermione and how she had NOT, in fact, been back to the bar that entire week.**

**What was wrong with him, he was sure, was that he had never had the displeasure of feeling even the slightest trace of emotion for a woman. Not once. Nor did he care. It was his reputation, in fact, that had brought on his numerous, restless nights with all different sorts of woman. His victims, in a sense. Francesca Heroe being one of them. **

**She gleamed up at him, her blonde hair matted to her face, as beads of sweat cascaded down her bare back. "That. Was. Amazing." She heaved, breathlessly. Draco shrugged her off of him heartlessly, and fled in a desperate attempt to find his clothes. Francesca sighed and rubbed her temples with her long, pale fingers**

"**Is that all this is?" Francesca wondered aloud, still panting loudly. Her sour, and almost purely white face looked up at him. Her teal eyes wide in anticipation for his answer.**

**The truth was that Francesca, had in fact, been absolutely amazing. She was also, undoubtedly beautiful, but she wanted more out of their relationship. More than Draco was willing to give.**

**She wanted what every girl he had ever slept with wanted. A house, a family, a faithful husband… Draco didn't feel that it was possible for him to ever be able to provide anything of that nature. And, as desperately as he had tried, he could not get the thought of Hermione Granger out of his head.**

**That one kiss made every meaningless and empty moment of pure passion and lust Draco had ever experienced, or will ever experience, seem empty. More empty than he could have ever imagined. It put every single one of his one night stands to shame. Thinking of his numerous wild nights, made no difference. Despite how amazing he had once thought they were. It was all so insignificant now. When he remembered that kiss, he shuddered.**

"**Francesca, you knew that's all this was," Draco snapped. She merely pulled her blank white sheet further around her body. Her hair tangled around her pillow, one hand instinctively clasped to her forehead.**

"**If you leave tonight," Francesca whispered. It had caught Draco's attention, as he waited for the worst of it. The words that he figured Francesca thought would, in turn, hurt him. They wouldn't. He had heard them so many times before…**

"**I just don't think you should come back…" She said finally. Draco shrugged his shoulders. **

'_**Oh well,**_**' He thought to himself.**

**It wasn't so bad as people thought. The sting of it really, hadn't been a sting at all. The words just bounced off of him, and he left. Just like he had before, with the last woman he had been with. Draco wondered how long this could possibly continue to go on. How long would it be until some girl finally managed to see him for what he really was. A god forsaken male.**

**Draco laughed at the thought, but was quickly forced into another distant, vivid dream of Hermione. He had been trying so desperately to forget her. Whatever it was he attempted to disregard, he was very well aware it had not been working.**

**The bar wasn't that far away. Draco noticed that it had been in the dead center of everything he had known. The hospital, his house, a few muggle stores he visited frequently. Never out of his way. That's why he loved it there. That, and it helped him pay for his new expenses. His truck, his schooling, keeping the bar together. **

**That pub would never perish, so long as he had something to do with it. Mathelda was family to him, and he needed her as much as she needed him.**

**Draco's thoughts had been cloudy that entire day, but when he stepped foot into that bar, he felt a terrible mix of fury and serenity was over him. **

**He had not come to work. He had come, with high hopes, to relinquish his memories of a certain brown haired girl. That seemed impossible though. Especially with her, already sitting comfortably at the bar.**

**If she hadn't been alone, Draco wouldn't have felt obligated to sit next to her. She had, in fact, kept her promise. A few days late, but she had arrived nonetheless. If it was possible Hermione seemed to grow more and more radiant every time he had seen her. Her long brown hair tossed casually over her shoulder in lustrous brown waves. Her form fitting clothes. **

**She wasn't drinking. Which may have very well been a good thing. Draco didn't want to be her babysitter another night. He wanted to talk. But more importantly, he wanted to-**

"**Draco!" Mathelda yelled across the boisterous conversation. Hermione looked up abruptly from her seat at the bar, lips smashed against the edge of a water glass. Draco gave a tiny wave back to Mathelda and continued across the bar to sit next to Hermione. He hadn't been sure it was a good idea. The last two times he had seen her she had been… unwell, to say the least. Draco found no comfort in the fact that she could have been so manipulated by the alcohol that she had in fact, **_**involuntarily**_** talked to him the night that she was drunk and the day the she was hung over.**

"**What are you doing here doll, isn't tonight your night off? You had a shift at the hospital last night." Mathelda asked, deeply concerned. Draco sighed and nodded his head. **

"**Yeah, and it was hell, so can you get me a glass of whiskey," He laughed, and Mathelda smiled brightly. **

"**Of course dear." **

**Mathelda turned and poured a generous amount of the strong brown whiskey into a small glass. Hermione laughed and took another sip of her water. Draco chugged the entire contents of his glass in one large sip, causing Hermione to smile shyly. **

"**What happened," she asked, in a forged, shocked voice. Draco grimaced.**

"**I lost a patient," he sighed. **

**Maybe it was that day. Maybe it was because nothing went as planned during the surgery that he had sought comfort in Francesca and half a bottle of liquor. It was because, this man that he had bonded to over the past two weeks, was actually gone. It hurt more than he had thought, to say that to himself. But it was true. He had lost him.**

**It wasn't easy to prevent him from perishing, but it hadn't necessarily been easy for Draco to stop blaming himself, either. It wasn't his fault, exactly. It was simply a bad reaction to the transplant. It wasn't healthy enough. There was nothing they could have done…**

**Other than find the man a better heart… He had deserved that much. **

"**I'm sorry," Hermione murmured quietly, forcing her eyes back down to the countertop, all hints of joking gone.**

**Draco took another large swig of his refill whiskey and turned to Hermione who was running her finger along the brim of her glass, staring off into the middle of an glowing neon sign in the shape of a beer bottle. The green light reflected into her eyes making her look cat-like.**

"**How have you been?" Draco asked. Hermione looked down at her glass and shrugged. **

"**Fine, I guess. Nothing much has changed. We've had classes all week, and my students are still struggling to figure out the concept of comedy in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream," Hermione laughed to herself, and Draco only nodded.**

**It was natural that she had become a teacher of some sort. Hermione Granger was teaching, and of all things, English. There was no shock as a result of this realization. It was natural. Just like it was natural that she still continued to keep her guard up when she was around him. Just like it was natural that Draco still had no emotions, no feelings. Not until he saw Hermione.**

**No. It wasn't true. He couldn't possibly. The only emotion he felt, he was sure, was hate. And even if, for some odd reason he found it wasn't hate but in fact something else, he was sure even then that it would have been lust. Pure unadulterated lust. And maybe that wouldn't end up being such a bad thing. When was lust ever considered just that. It was healthy, to want someone. But it was not healthy to only want them for one night. Especially, as often as it occurred for Draco.**

**More alcohol. Draco never intentionally got drunk for the sake of getting drunk. He, very much like Hermione, drank to forget things. Things that were too hard to face sober, or alone. But Hermione wasn't drinking. And so Draco repressed any more thoughts he had with him consuming more alcohol that what was good for him. **

**They sat in silence. It was not uncomfortable, nor was it unpleasant. It was, in fact marvelous and peaceful and serene. There was no need to fill the silence with awkward or painful words. For some reason, being was enough to sustain them. In that instant, together, everything around them seemed to be consumed in a foggy haze. The only thing that existed was themselves. Their auras, there spirits, the air they breathed. All of it lay thick, around their heads. Their bodies suspended in the midst of an industrious Friday night. Draco looked up at Hermione, and their eyes locked. His mind, foggy with the remnants of diligent liquor, gave into his internal cries, and he slammed his glass on the bar counter.**

"**Do you want to get out of here?" He called after Hermione. Draco had already stammered up from his seat and grabbed his coat. Hermione shook her head, yes.**

**From what Hermione could see, he had not been drunk. It was easy to recognize that she might have been slightly wrong, but it wasn't what she was used to when she thought of, or even remembered, the word "Drunk." **

**She enjoyed his company as much as she had assumed he had, but there was a burning sensation that pulsed through her being and no matter how hard she had tried to ignore it, the intense throbbing never ceased to exist. They both harbored that look in their eyes. They were blank, with a passionate hunger that shook both of them into believing that they hadn't met coincidentally. It was the workings of old magic. In which both of them were familiar. Mathelda smiled at them as they both left together. **

**Draco had no idea where he was going, but it didn't matter. The noise and the pollution in the bar where strong enough that he needed to get rid of them. He needed to leave promptly, so that his mind would settle, and he could think clearly. **

**There was the chance that Hermione had wanted this all along. She had, after all, insinuated their first kiss. Granted, she was drunk, it was still expected that there had been feelings hidden behind it. Feelings that neither of them were un-stubborn enough to admit. But Draco prayed, regardless that she had wanted him, too. Because, Merlin, he wanted her so badly right now. **

**But there were so many emotions that resided throughout him that he doubted he could have managed being with her. That's why he told himself it was best if he had just dropped her off at her tiny, vine-covered brick house. Because he felt lust, and anger, and rage. It was lethal. And Draco had refused to make Hermione the receiving end of his wrath. **

**Draco pulled up to Hermione's driveway. She didn't look very surprised.**

**Hermione wanted to ask., but she couldn't seem to untangle the words off of her tongue fast enough. Her heart pounded in her chest, as she gripped the door handle with all her strength. She wondered secretly if she had been put under some sort of spell…**

"**Would you want to come in?" She asked unexpectedly. Draco looked at Hermione. His eyes raking up and down her body stopping to gaze at her death grip on his door handle, and her chest heaving- up and down. **

_**Breathe, Draco, Breathe**_**… **

**Draco closed his eyes racking his brain for a way to remain calm and in control. Honestly, before tonight he had just wanted to drink, go home to his own bed, and sleep soundly until his next shift at the hospital. He was so angry that he had finally felt something. Emotion. A gaping hole that tore across his chest, and burned his lungs. It was so hard for him to breathe now…**

_**Inhale, Exhale…**_

_**Draco nodded, and opened his door, following a very eager Hermione up her walkway. **_

_**All Draco wanted was sex. That's all he had ever wanted out of a woman, and it had never been that hard to attain. But something tugged at him, and he knew this wasn't the same. Draco knew that this was different, in so many more ways than he could imagine and that scared him. He knew he couldn't do this. And the second that Hermione shut the door behind them and flung herself onto him, he felt a charge of emotions race through him. Merlin, this was too hard.**_

_**Her small, cold lips pressed into his impatiently, and he pulled her back. **_

"_**Hermione, please," Draco sighed. She eyed him knowingly.**_

"_**I thought you wanted this?" She breathed**_

_**Draco ran his fingers though his wind whipped hair, and walked slowly towards her again, leaning against a wall. Hermione looked nervous now, teetering over towards the man set against her wall. She leaned her head in to kiss him. Draco smelt the remnants of alcohol and mint lingering on her breath.**_

"_**Not. Now." He drawled out the words sharply. A sting in each one.**_

"_**Why not?" She asked indignantly.**_

"_**BECAUSE!" **_

_**Their small bicker, broke out into hysterics in two seconds flat. This was, after all, Draco and Hermione.**_

"_**That is NOT an answer," Hermione refuted.**_

_**Draco huffed, and started retreating to the door in enough time to hear Hermione ask why, the second time.**_

"_**ANSWER ME!" She screamed, shoving Draco hard against the wall. For a long moment Draco felt the surge of anger hit him, fire pulsing through his veins as he took both Hermione's hands above her head, shoving her up against the wall. A small groan escaped her throat.**_

_**His pale, muscular arms were resting against her body again, and Hermione tensed under the warmth of his touch.**_

_**It's something so simple as having someone break your heart, that can be enough to shatter your self confidence. It can break a person, and Hermione was no doubt broken. She thought she wanted this, and now she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure at all. She had been positive the past few days that she was still madly in love with Ron. She wanted him back so badly, but upon seeing Draco, all those feelings had relinquished even more quickly than they had came. But even now, she was still unsure, and was glad that Draco had stopped her from making a terrible mistake. One that she would undoubtedly regret for the rest of her life.**_

_**Draco knew he would never hurt her. He couldn't. But for some odd reason seeing her there, hanging defenselessly against her wall, he couldn't resist but embrace his old smug smirk. Hermione's breathing increased, rapidly, as Draco looked down her small gray cardigan. Maybe he could have fun with her after all…**_

_**Draco pressed his warm lips to Hermione's as her chest continued to heave through her sweater. She welcomed it, knowingly. It was so hard to resist this feeling that overwhelmed her, but she had to think rationally. She forced herself to think long term. But the passion was overwhelming. Hermione knocked her head to the side, as Draco's next kiss crashed onto her cheek. He laughed sadistically, and Hermione's breathing faltered once again. This was exactly the Draco she knew once before. **_

_**Hermione was scared, but not like she thought she should be. She knew what Draco was capable of, but doubted, with her entire being, he would ever do anything to hurt her.**_

_**Draco began kissing her jaw line, when Hermione forced him away by moving her head. Draco traveled down her neck, to her collarbone, back down to the rim of her sweater. Holding both her hands tightly above her head single handedly, Draco began peeling off the buttons to her shirt with his free hand. **_

"_**Malfoy!" Hermione scolded, but Draco only laughed again, as he slowly peeled off more buttons to reveal her chest heaving dramatically through the slightest remains of the fabric. The extent of her cleavage, expelling out of the top of her shirt. Draco kissed his way back up her neck, making a trail up towards her lips, his warm body pressed firmly against her. This time Hermione welcomed this kiss fervently. Only then did Draco release her hands. Hermione could barely breathe as Draco slid his hands down her back, pressing her tighter against the wall. The kiss was passionate, intense and full of fire. Hermione and Draco split apart, gasping for air, and Hermione leaned in for another kiss. Draco pulled away, leaving Hermione breathless and disoriented. He leaned over to whisper huskily in her ear.**_

"_**Goodnight Hermione." **_

_**It was enough to send shivers up and down her spine.**_

_**If his intent was to make Hermione so frustrated that she would literally be begging for more, he had done his job. **_


	5. Mirror Of Erised

**A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy! (I really like this chapter)**

**DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 5- The Mirror of Erised**

**It sucked to be alone. Hermione had felt that, and instead of being upset, or sad, she was just plain pissed off. That's all she had felt lately, was anger. She was angry that she was willing and ready to sleep with Draco, but that he wouldn't take her. That was never like him, to refuse someone. She knew that. He had been the exact same way throughout school. Some things never change…**

**But this had. It was so confusing, and it was literally eating Hermione up inside. She was shattered, and this of all things, just made it all seem worse. Now there was no denying it. She was utterly, and indefinitely broken. **

**Hermione sat curled up on her couch, wrapped in a blanket, tears streaming down her face. It was a girl thing and completely natural. Watching movies that made you feel even worse about yourself, because, in the end, there's that pleasant happy ending. And in real life, there's no such thing. There's no happy ending. Especially for her. Hermione felt more alone than ever now, even with her students and her best friends and the ice cream and the movie. **

**She could never go back to that bar. She was much too embarrassed. Hermione had lunged at Draco to kiss him and he retreated. And then once he had returned the notion, Hermione was stubborn as ever. **

**Why she couldn't have just gone along with it and gave in to what she felt, was a thought that had plagued her since the moment he left.**

**She could still feel him on her lips. Warm, and gentle, and powerful. His presence lingered, and made it that much more harder for her. **

**But there was something else. Something unspoken. Hermione felt as though, if she thought hard enough about it, it would stay with her. His warm body pressed against hers, His strong arms holding her up against her wall. She knew that maybe there was more to this than had met the eye. If she thought about it, she was sure that Draco had refused her because he felt something, too. But it was to hard to tell. She had been convinced that Draco couldn't feel emotions. Much less, express them. But when he spoke of his patient… The hurt that she saw reflected in his eyes. There was sorrow there. And Hermione knew that that could very well be the reason that he left her. **

**It was so breathtaking. The moment that he whispered in her ears. Like the softest, most beautiful music.. It was tempting, Hermione knew that much. She thought that he had wanted her to come back to the bar. That goodbye was temporary. She was sure. **

**When Hermione thought back to the night before, she could remembered everything in vivid detail, and she tried desperately to figure out if it was safe to go back. She reached deep into her mind, pulling out the remnants of her night. His warm breathe, his soft hands…**

**It was not a permanent parting. She felt that now. She knew that he had wanted her just as much as she had wanted him, but something stronger, and more powerful had taken him over. Not lust, but hurt, and he couldn't stay with her while he was hurting. In a way it was chivalrous. **

**Hermione wiped away the last of her tears, gathering up her tissues and blanket, and started back upstairs to her room. Her wand sat neatly on her nightstand.**

"**Conve siono," Hermione whispered, staring at her self in her long, full length mirror. **

**Her hair swooped upwards into a loose bun. Pieces hanging around her face. Her clothes where pressed, and neat. Her tears where cleaned away, and her eyes gleamed brightly. **

**Hermione grabbed her purse off of her door handle, and walked back downstairs. There was somewhere she had to be. Hermione threw in a handful of floo powder, and with a soft whirl of ash and green smoke She was gone, in a small, dainty puff.**

**She needed to know what she wanted, because she wasn't sure herself. If nothing had changed… If everything had stayed the same as it was when she was in Hogwarts, she could have looked into the core of that mirror and saw nothing but herself and her two best friends. Now, Hermione couldn't come close to guessing what she would see. Although, she thought she had a general idea.**

**She was wrong. Dead wrong.**

**She didn't need to be aware of anything other than her mind. She didn't feel it was necessary to believe anything other than that moment. All she needed was to be aware. To know exactly what it was she wanted.**

**Hermione mustered all the courage she had to make her way closer to the mirror. Walking slowly past the havoc they had created their first year, in Hogwarts. The thick thatch of devils snare, which had been obliterated, through the door where the keys flew peacefully above her head. Glinting beams of golden light suspended by a set of soft blue butter wings. Hermione walked slowly through the mess of a wizard's chess set. The thick porcelain fixtures all broken and mangled. The life size pieces still lay across the floor in ruins, bringing back terrifying memories. **

**Hermione carefully made her way down another dark corridor, to a large pit. The cracked marble steps ascended downwards to an old small platform, and in the middle of it all stood the most essential tool Hermione thought she could possibly need at this moment. The Mirror of Erised. **

**Hermione wondered if the new headmaster knew that she was there, making her way down the steps, to the mirror. Her soft soled heels made a dull thud against the solid staircase. No one could ever be as clever and aware as Dumbledore had been, but what Hermione believed is that she could stay long enough, and remain completely stealth. **

**No one else, besides Harry and Dumbledore and Professor Quirrel had known about this mirror, other than Hermione herself, that is. One of the many perks of reading incessantly. Hermione knew everything... Or close to it.**

**Her breathing quickened, as she tried desperately to stay calm. Hermione had no idea what she was going to see when she looked into that mirror, and although she had thought she'd been completely sure she would see Ron, Hermione was no longer certain. **

**She had done a lot of thinking the past few nights, after seeing Draco the first time, at the bar, and how much he had changed. **

**Right foot, left foot. The dull thud of her footsteps resounded throughout the empty chamber.**

**There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that he was undeniably gorgeous, and caring, and passionate, and stubborn as ever. When he kissed her, Hermione could do nothing to fight it. She welcomed every single lustful kiss, much to her disdain. **

**Right foot, left foot. Pause. Echo.**

**Hermione forgot about Ron and everything that had destroyed her when she was with Draco that night. Even if there was silence between them, the passion and heat were both inevitable. Hermione couldn't sleep, she couldn't feel. It had taken it's toll, and the further she thought about it, the more confused she became. **

**This is what scared her the most. That she might be betraying the only part she had left of her that remained innocent. The part of her that sill hated him because he called her a mudblood and taunted her every day of her life throughout school. The part of her that longed to hit him again. To see the shock, and pure hatred on his face, in his shining grey eyes. The only part that was left of her that held on to something she believed in. That she hated Draco Malfoy.**

**The mirror was a mere two feet away, and Hermione only saw a clouded image of herself. The tall pillars set up neatly behind her. She was too scared to get any closer. Too afraid of what she might see. **

**What had she wanted? She was sure that it was Ron she would see in the mirror next to herself, but then she wasn't positive she could bare to see his face next to hers. His arms wrapped around her waist, smiling. It was going to be too much. And Hermione had though about that possibility of seeing Harry again, alive, but she was compelled to go to the mirror anyways. Hermione felt that she had to be certain. **

**Right foot, left foot.**

**The mirror was fogged over with a thin film of dust. Gold vines wrapped themselves around the frame of the glass and up into the Latin quote above the mirror itself. Hermione could not remember every intricate detail, the mirror was so exquisite, it made her feel insignificant standing next to it. But that was not why Hermione could not remember the ornate detailing of the mirror. **

**She was there. But Ron wasn't. No one was. Hermione knew that she didn't want to be alone. Nobody wants to be alone… Yet here she was, by herself. The background never changing. And then it had hit her. Like a ton of bricks, his picture slowly started fading in next to hers. His hand resting gently on her shoulder, and Hermione gasped for the breath that was slowly and painfully escaping her body. It was so hard to be angry, or upset, or even hurt, because her reflection was so happy.**

**Hermione gently discarded the last piece of innocence she had in her body. The last tiny bit of her that was tied to something familiar. Nothing she felt was certain anymore. She sat twisted into a sad image of a little girl on the floor of the chamber.**

**Hermione gently let go of the everything inside her that was left, that held onto something so strangely recognizable as hating Draco Malfoy, because when she looked in the mirror, every piece of her past life was thrown away. Discarded, and her reflection was the happiest Hermione had seen herself. Even if it was with Draco Malfoy resting his long pale fingers over her shoulder. **

**It was relieving to her, in a way. that she could see herself so happy when in reality, all she felt was pain. Pain from being hurt, and uncertain, and skeptical, because that had destroyed her. All of these little things were eating away what was left of Hermione Granger. But in this moment, she had felt instantly Gratified.**

**Hermione was numb. Seeing herself this happy, even if she knew it was fake, was such a dead feeling. Not, dead in the sense that she was empty, and perished. Dead, in the sense, that she was free, and happy, and there was no more hurt anymore. You feel nothing when you are dead.**

**The mirror Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione's stomach placing his hands on the tiny lump protruding from her middle, a ring resting on his fourth finger. A wedding band, and a baby. It was so far fetched and ridiculous that Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Laugh at her own expense, because as an extension, it was what she had wanted. She longed for a family, and that perfect dream life she had imagined for herself so many times before. Except, in this dream, it's with the one man she claimed to hate most of her life. It was, however, a complete and total product of what she had pined after. It had been lingering in her mind.**

**It was almost as though she could feel his arms draped around her stomach. The swooshing in her belly, and the cold ring resting on her own finger. Almost. It was far off, and distant, but it was there, and it helped Hermione to let go of all the things she was familiar with. All the things she had thought kept her sane- because they weren't working. All these things that kept her 'grounded,' weren't doing their job right, and Hermione was left sitting in front of an ancient mirror, looking at her and Draco, as happy as ever. **

**Draco tucked his head in between the crook of Hermione's neck, and she could almost feel his breath. Almost. It was enticing, this moment. And Hermione finally realized what she had wanted all along. Him.**

_**A week later…**_

**It was hard enough for Hermione, coming to this realization. But it had been even harder for her to confront it. To go and visit Draco at the bar, and apologize for not coming around to see him. Even a week after they kissed…**

**Where time had went, she wasn't certain. But Hermione felt completely comfortable with the fact that she knew what she wanted now, even if she didn't ever acknowledge it in a literal sense. Hermione was known to take action. But she wasn't so sure about this time.**

**That image haunted her for the passing week. Her and Draco, happy. Together.**

**Hermione thought about going back to the mirror, but refused. She thought it would only maker her hurt worse. Seeing herself that happy had plagued her. It was as if Hermione knew she could never be that content, and she had deprived herself of feeling that it was even possible with anyone, let alone **_**Malfoy.**_

**There was no denying what she had seen. Hermione still felt his arms around her, and his breath grazing her back. His lips so close to the nape of her neck. Almost, but just barely, touching the hairs above the back of her collar. So there was no way it wasn't real. **

**The happiness; the want. It was no doubt genuine.**

**She was made up and ready. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail. The length of her brown locks still reaching the middle of her back. Her clothes were pressed and simple. A pair of tight, straight-legged jeans and a loose fitting tank top. Her purse slung across the edge of her bed. Hermione wondered if he would be mad, but didn't really mind.**

**It took all of her newfound courage to suck up her pride, and go and visit Draco tonight. Especially since even thinking about their kiss still had a tendency to make her dizzy.**

**There were a whirl-wind of thoughts streaming through her head. "Is he going to be mad?" "Did he already forget about the kiss?" "Has he moved on?" "Is he even interested?" "Do I look alright?"**

**Hermione was frantic getting into her car. Her hands trembled slightly as she touched the steering wheel, her foot on the gas. She was speeding and didn't even realize it. Hermione never breaks the law. The muggle law, that is.**

**It took her no time to arrive at the small pub, her hands still shaking and sweating, uncontrollably. Hermione breathed, and checked her appearance in the mirror once again, before plunging the depths of the unknown. She walked, very slowly, up to the bar after spotting Draco's old red pick-up truck parked outside. **

**There was enough for her to be stressed out about. She could definitely use a drink…**

**Hermione opened the door sending a gust of cold outside air into the bar. Some men looked up at her, resting their eyes on her figure, before she ignored them and sat down on Draco's side of the bar. What a way to make an entrance.**

**Hermione noticed the generous amount of girls hounding Draco. A fake smile plastered over his face. It was this moment that Hermione could no longer contain her laughter. She let out a small chuckle, turning a dark shade of pink from enjoying his agony, and Draco turned around to look her square in the face. A look of complete and total irritation on his face. One that read "This is NOT funny," which only made Hermione laugh that much harder.**

**Draco poured drinks at rapid speed, and the girls only looked somewhat disappointed. They could not seem to comprehend that he was not in any way, shape or form- interested in any one of them. **

**Draco turned more slowly over to Hermione. His warm grey eyes trying desperately to read her intentions in coming. They looked her up and down with immodest interest. Hermione shivered. He tried, unsuccessfully to hide the lust that was painted so clearly on his face, and it made Hermione blush even more. **

"**Hey," he whispered. His voice never ceased to send shivers up and down her spine.**

**Hermione felt the calm in his voice flush over her, and she thought back, reluctantly, to the night in front of the mirror. His warm breath, piercing her flesh.**

**Hermione smiled. "Hey."**

**They stared at each other for a long while, because nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Hermione was here with the man she thought could make her happy. And Draco was content in standing in front of the woman he had pined after- since seeing her seventh year in the astronomy tower, after the war. They were on opposite sides, but she said nothing to him, as he swept away briskly to return to the Slytherin common room as if what they just had to endure wasn't real. She didn't say a word. Nothing Hurtful, resentful, or angry. Maybe, it was because he had saved her, but Draco liked to believe it was something else. **

**The had both apparated back to the same spot in Hogwarts. Both landing face to face. Mere centimeters from each other, but Hermione didn't move. She didn't even flinch as Draco raised his wand, as a reflex. She just stood in awe. Sad, because she had lost one of her best friends. Happy because the war was over. Flattered, because that was the night Ronhad first kissed her, and scared senseless because of all that she had been though. Draco bet she was confused, too. Mostly as a result of himself, and what he had done for her. That much he could read by just surveying her.**

**But they stood there, in silence. Their eyes locked on one another's. Her warm brown eyes, empty, and scared, but mostly shattered beyond repair.**

**Draco's eyes pierced right through, into the very core of her being, and she couldn't take it. Hermione looked to the side, but felt Draco's long calloused finger below her chin. He pulled her head up to face him. To look into his eyes once again. Hermione's warmth returned for only a moment as tears pooled in her eyes. Draco couldn't ever handle emotion very well, so he dropped his hand, looked at her a moment longer, and walked away. Leaving behind a very small, and very broken Hermione Granger. **

**It was the first time he had ever looked at her with anything other than jealousy or hatred. He looked at her, that night, with his best attempt at comfort and sympathy, because he had not been taught well. In fact, he had not been taught at all. And Hermione looked at him with nothing but sorrow and frustration and hurt. She needed to be healed, but Draco didn't know how, so he did the next best thing. He learned. And although she was never around, he still felt for her. He did all of this for her. All of it.**

**She was the only one who had gotten through to him, ever… And she hadn't even said a word.**

**Draco grabbed Hermione a small cup of water and placed it in front of her, never bothering to ask if she wanted anything else. Hermione laughed again as he turned around, facing the other side of the bar. It was funny. Whenever she came back with the intentions of drinking away anything that had happened to her, he made it close to impossible. Not this time. Hermione waved Mathelda down, and she brought over a glass of vodka before Draco could turn around. Hermione took a long swig, tapping the glass on top of the bar. Draco looked deep in her eyes and moaned. **

"**Whatever, but you better believe I'm not taking care of you tonight." Draco sighed, and Hermione laughed loudly. His infamous smirk stretched across his face. **

"**Who's to say you would even need to." Hermione waved her hand in the air, dismissively. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Hermione smiled brightly, which caused the same reaction in Draco, who continued to smirk, smugly. It was contagious, and then his face went blank. Hermione took another sip of her vodka, and sighed aloud, while Draco took it upon himself to remain busy with other things. This allowed Hermione time to reflect, although she didn't really need it. She had to much time to think, already. She didn't want any more time to ponder. It only made everything more real to her. **

**Draco shot her a death glare when he thought she wasn't looking. **

_**Curse her for being so goddamn distracting…**_

"**What's got your wand in a knot?" Hermione mumbled under her breath.**

**Draco turned around and looked at her, empty expression plastered across his face. **

**The truth was, Draco was missing more and more who he and Hermione used to be. But he had worked so hard to get where he was today, escaping the war and all. He thought it was because he was a coward, but he could never be that honest with himself. Draco knew he would never physically hurt her, but emotionally…. That's a different story. **

**Draco could tell Hermione was getting attached, and he wasn't sure he was ready for it.**

**Draco pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking a single stick out in between his fingers, and lighting it. Hermione cringed. Apparently, something had been wrong. He exhaled a puff of smoke, and looked at Hermione again. She wasn't shaken. **

**It wasn't hard to remember all his nasty habits he had developed back at Hogwarts, and Hermione was in tune to all of them. He'd slam his fists down wherever he could, whenever he was angry. He would smoke non-stop, and he would hide behind a wall of fake emotions. Some of which, Hermione had guessed, took residency over him right now. He would find friends in people that made him look superior, and he had been just as stubborn and hard-headed as she was. Hermione was also aware that he had never loved a single soul. That is, other than himself. Hermione laughed at the thought. **

**Draco took Hermione's glass away, and dumped It over in a sink behind the counter.**

"**What the-" Hermione began, but Draco had already grabbed two new glasses as he reached below the register to a small cupboard. Draco poured the alcohol into both glasses, and walked out around the bar, cigarette in hand, and sat next to Hermione. She waited until he took the first drink, to take a sip from her ownp. It burned as it slid down the back of her throat. **

"**What is this stuff?" She choked. Draco just laughed, leaning in close to her ear. Hermione could see the jealousy radiating off of the other girls in the bar, in waves.**

"**It's firewhiskey," he whispered. His breath sunk deep into her ear, penetrating her skin. Hermione both blushed and smiled at that. There it was. Something familiar. Something she had needed to tie her over, because she had known that nothing was going to be the same anymore. It was time for her past to come to and end. She could finally shut out everything that HAD happened, and start focusing on possibilities. It was time Hermione focused on new beginnings. **

**When had Hermione become to susceptible? Maybe it was around the time that she had lost Harry. Or maybe it was around the time that Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's were all she had left. Maybe it was after she had been peeled apart by her fiancé. She had lost her best friend, her fiancé, and her closest girlfriend, and Hermione quickly learned that there was nothing she could do about it except sit back, and handle it all the best she could. She had learned quite hurriedly that it was close to impossible. But she could manage.**

**Draco took a long drag from his cigarette and looked up at Hermione who was deep in thought. He could very well just leave. Or he could hurt her like before and she would never dare to show up at the bar again. It was getting harder and harder for Draco to keep up his façade, and it was killing him inside. He couldn't let his guard down for a second. Not with Hermione…**

"**Granger," Draco sneered. Sometimes it hurt her, when he called her name like that, but it was familiar, too. That's all she wanted anymore. Because it was getting more and more difficult to let everything go.**

"**Yes."**

"**What are you doing here?"**

"**It's a public bar, I'm allowed to come in and have a drink if I wish to do so." Hermione flasheda fake smile over at Draco, who kept up his stern gaze geared in her direction. It did a good job of drowning out her own smile. He took another deep swig of his drink, and laughed, running his finger along the edge of his cup.**

**Draco didn't look up from his glass of firewhiskey, which was somehow empty already. Draco just took another long drag of his cigarette and stumped it out in an ash tray on top of the old wooden countertop, exhaling smoothly. "Try again."**

**Hermione honestly didn't know why she was there. She knew it had something to do with what she had seen in the mirror, but there was more than that. Something that had compelled her to drive the short distance to the bar. Maybe it was just to see him, she had no idea… But what was worse was that, if it had in fact been to see him, she was fully satisfied he was there, talking to her. Like the past five years had never happened. As if she hadn't been with Ron, and Draco had never left school during his seventh year. As if she could still talk to Ginny like hadn't broken her brother's heart. As if Harry hadn't died… Nothing had changed, and here she was. **

"**I think that, well, maybe-" Hermione drawled, looking for a simpler way to put things. She hadn't wanted to be too blunt. "-It was to see you."**

_**Way to be obscure, Hermione.**_

**She could have very well smacked herself square in the face for the blunt delivery of her last statement. But it was out of the bag, and she would soon be hearing the scathing end of Draco's forceful nature. More than likely, joyously ripping her apart for being such a blind fool. She had expected a whirl-wind of insults. She braced herself for the word mudblood to spew from his lips.**

**What Hermione hadn't been ready for, fully, was Draco's true reaction. She had assumed all wrong. Hermione prided herself on being very good at reading people. She had always been wrong with Draco. Always.**

**Draco laughed. Merlin, he was right. She was getting attached. The saddest part was that Draco had been, too. He had, in fact, been growing rather fond of her long, unruly brown hair, her soft caramel eyes, her enticing body, and her stubborn-as-all-hell attitude. All of it had taken its fatal toll on him, and Draco couldn't help but want nothing other than to shag her senseless. For as long as he possibly could. Until neither of them could move a muscle.**

**But there was more to it than that. Draco had been certain of that. He looked up at her, from his now full glass of fire whiskey. She was doing well by looking at the rim of her glass, avoiding his eyes. **

"**I can feel you, you know," Hermione sighed, still looking downwards.**

"**What?" Draco asked**

"**Your eyes are burning two gaping holes in the side of my head."**

**Draco laughed blissfully.**

**Hermione had figured that he was trying to sort things out as much as she had been trying to. He had a right, after all. Draco was as confused as Hermione. It took everything in his power not to succumb to evil. Even with that gruesome mark on his arm. **

**Death Eaters were still doing all they could to rally up troops to attack citizens and members of The Order. Their dream of despair, and preserving a pureblood society didn't die with Voldemort, as much as the resistance would have liked to believe it had. Hermione wondered to herself if it had hurt him, at one point. If they ever called for him to join them again, after the war. If maybe he had wanted to. She was too curious for her own good, and normally her thirst for knowledge got the better of her. Like it had now.**

"**Does it ever hurt?" Hermione asked, quietly. Keeping her voice as low as possible as to not arouse suspicion. **

"**Does what ever hurt?" Draco wondered, looking confused. Hermione rested her hand gently on top of his arm. The arm that bore the infamous mark. Draco took another swig of his fire whiskey and turned to Hermione, pulling his arm out from underneath her.**

"**Physically, yes."**

**Hermione thought about that for a moment. Her eyes slunk back down to the table. **

"**Do you ever regret anything you did in the war?" Hermione looked sulky, as she recalled all the horrible things she had seen. Mostly a byproduct of Death Eaters. The unforgivable's she had to witness, being executed. It was hard, but there were moments when she couldn't do **_**anything**_** because she had been too late. Those moments were the worst. Those were the moments when Hermione Granger, brave war heroine, prayed for her own death. **

"**Not really." Draco took another large swig, finishing off his drink. Hermione cocked her head to the side, raising one eyebrow. She found this statement both insulting, and rather hard to believe. Draco acknowledged her quizzical look.**

"**What do you want me to say, Granger? That I'm sorry for hexing people that were, in turn, hurting the people I grew up with? Do you want me to tell you that I regret joining the dark side? Or do you want me to say that I regret killing?" It all came out in a whisper, but Hermione could feel the sting in his words. "Because I can't say any of that. I can't apologize because I'm not sorry, Granger. I did what I had to do to survive." He shook his head. "Just like you and Potter and Weasley."**

**This time Hermione shook her head.**

"**No. it's nothing alike." Hermione could feel her face flushed with anger. Draco had killed. She knew that. The worst part of it was that it was a girl from her year, in Ravenclaw. A member of the order. Very intelligent, and very beautiful. The only one she had known of. There could've been more, but Hermione chose not to believe it just yet. "What me and Harry and Ron did was noble, and brave, and for the common good." Hermione took a short breath. "What you and your fellow Death Eaters imbeciles managed to accomplish, before they lost, was genocide." Hermione took a drink from her glass and winced as it slithered its way down her throat. Draco ran his hand through his hair.**

"**Whatever Granger."**

"**No!" Hermione spoke that last word rather loudly. "Not whatever. How can you not be sorry for what you've done?"**

**Draco took another cigarette out of his pack and lit it up, taking a deep breath inwards. **

"**I'm just not. I think I grew up that way. No sympathy and no compassion. I don't feel for anything." **

"**But yourself." Hermione whispered. It was too late, Draco had caught her.**

"**You're right. I learned that first and foremost, I needed to save my own arse out there. Not worry about someone else." Hermione thought back some more. "I learned that I shouldn't have to save anyone." Draco sighed again.**

"**But you saved me." Draco smirked sarcastically. **

"**Would you rather I didn't?" Hermione knew the real answer deep down inside, even though she knew he was being his usual sarcastic self, and didn't really want her to tell him the truth. The answer that would have set her free a long time ago, was yes. She had prayed for death. It was that simple. Part of her was lucky that she was saved, but another part of her, the stronger part, wishes he would've never showed up to save her. **

**Draco caught the skeptical look on Hermione's face. "Don't lie to me Granger." Draco spat, eyeing her face with his unruly grey eyes. He knew what her real answer was, too. So Hermione told him the truth.**

"**Part of me, the stronger part of me, wishes you would've left me there to die." Hermione looked up from her glass to search for Draco's eyes. They were glaring straight towards her, tense, but full of fear as well. No look of surprise or shock had even threatened to taint his face. "I am lucky you were there though." She whispered at last.**

**Draco's face relaxed, as he drew in another breath from his cigarette, stomping it out. **

"**I don't think I could've watched you suffer." Hermione smiled at this. It was not a common characteristic of Draco Malfoy, that he wouldn't want to see a mudblood suffer from a most painful death. Especially Hermione Granger. **

"**How many?" Hermione looked back down at her glass, half ready to her him scoffing, and arguing with her to stop asking so many goddamn questions.**

"**How many what, Granger?" Draco sighed. Hermione could feel him growing restless of her inquiry.**

"**How many people-" She didn't need to finish the sentence. When her eyes found her glass again, Draco looked away from her hurriedly. **

"**I don't really keep a tab, Granger."**

"**How many do you think."**

"**I don't know," Draco hissed. "Maybe six. It could have been more." Hermione's jaw dropped. "Don't look at me like that Granger." Draco started, but it was too late.**

"**Six people!" She shouted. Draco raised his finger to his lip to silence her, but she went on. "Draco, those were six people! Six humans! They had families, and friends, and maybe even children!" Draco shook his head impatiently at the girl who sat next to him as she carried on with her tyrannical rant. **

"**Where they faceless to you?" Hermione asked. Draco could sense the pain in her voice, and continued to look bewildered.**

"**No, of course not, it's just-"**

"**Who were they then…" Hermione pleaded, but she wasn't sure whether she wanted to know or not.**

"**Granger, please. Just shut up will you-" But She silenced him. **

"**Just tell me." She whispered. **

**There was no way he could tell her the truth. That he had killed eight people, actually. He knew for certain. He did keep a tab. Two if which she would never find out about. Because that would be the death of him. He couldn't tell Hermione that he had in fact, kept a tab. He knew every single one of the people he had killed, and he honestly didn't care at all. And as much as it hurt her to hear that, it hurt him more that he was able to say that. **

**Evangeline Harris, the seventh year Ravenclaw. Emily Miller, a sixth year Hufflepuff student. Jack Mason, who had graduated form Hogwarts a year earlier, from Gryffindor. Harvey Winston, and Kelly Hanson, both members of The Order. Holly Kinder, who was another, older member of the order. Seamus Finnigan, seventh year Gryffindor, and Luna Lovegood. **_**That was why he could not tell Hermione. **_

"_**Could you just leave it alone." It was useless. Draco knew that wouldn't stop Hermione. She was a force to be reckoned with when she was this angry and upset over something. How she could be so passionate and bloody stubborn about a stupid battle was beyond him.**_

"_**No, I will not bloody well leave it alone." Hermione heaved. "Not until you tell me that you're even the slightest bit sorry for what you've done." **_

"_**I'm not," Draco whispered in her ear, raising both his eyebrows. He threw some money on the table, more than enough to cover him and Hermione's drinks, and headed out to the car. Hermione in hot pursuit. This was alright with her. Now she could yell. **_

"_**You've taken away six people from this world, with no remorse. How can you be so cold?" Hermione whimpered as she stammered backwards towards the center of the parking lot. Draco dangled his keys in his hands absent-mindedly, and unlocked his car door. Hermione followed, but Draco wasn't ready to get into his car just yet. She flew up to him her face mere inches from his, and he smirked devilishly. **_

"_**Easy."**_

_**Draco had thought that he had forgotten all of this. He had let go of all the things he had done in order to stay alive, and thought he had paid the price. He had no friends, and no family. He was done with remembering. That was, until this stubborn bint had brought it up. **_

_**Draco knew well enough that had he left in the middle of this fight, she would've followed him all the way home, so he did the next best thing. He apparated back to the manor. **_

_**Hermione looked around sullenly. She would not give up that easy, and she cleverly remembered an old trick she had learned about apparating, back in the auror training she had never finished, and with a snap of Her bone-white fingers, she was gone.**_


	6. One Night Stand

A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Chapter 6- The Manor

The manor was roughly the size of all four common rooms in Hogwarts along with, of course, the great hall, the head's dormitories, and a few of the largest classrooms known to students. If Hermione would have apparated a second later, she would have surely been lost. But she was a good few inches, at most, behind Draco. Enough to scare him senseless.

Hermione tapped her foot, and Draco spun around

"Shit, Granger! What the hell?" Hermione smiled. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Draco snorted and shook his head, as he combed back his hair with his fingers. His breathing sharpened.

"You know perfectly well, I don't give up that easily."

"Well, if I didn't before, I sure as hell do now. So get out of my house." Draco stormed off to the kitchen, with Hermione close behind.

"Alright, we can talk about something else, assuming you feel the same way I do about the war. I can actually see it in your face." Hermione cocked her head to the side sympathetically. "It hurts you to talk about it as much as it hurts me."

Draco lost all interest in trying to fend her off at this moment. The old Hermione would have pushed him until he was over the edge. Screaming and hollering and punching holes in his own walls. He knew something had to have been up. But he was grateful that she was letting it go. Because as much as he didn't regret some of the things he did in the war, he was making up for them by becoming a better person. Which was enough to say he was ashamed.

Sometimes it was hard for him. There were many times were Draco wanted to give up all that he had done for himself, this new life that he had built, and go back to the wizarding world, to join the Death Eaters. At least that way he had people there for him. Even if they could care less if he got hurt, or worse, killed. They were people he had known, and were familiar with. He would give anything to feel familiar again. That's why he loved being with _her_.

Even if she was a major pain in the arse, and wouldn't ever cease to be so goddamn stubborn or hard-headed, she was someone he felt comfortable with. Someone that he had known almost his whole life, and Someone that made working out in a bar, in the middle of muggle London, that much easier. Draco felt so contented with Hermione, even if both of them had changed. That's why, whenever Draco was around her, he had adopted a small percentage of his old self. Because it was familiar.

Hermione was standing in his kitchen, her long hair twisted back, to show her bright brown eyes. He liked this feeling. With Hermione he was safe. He knew that, but he continued to push her away.

"We can talk about why, if you are indeed so _noble_" Hermione stressed the last word and looked at Draco raising her eyebrows "You didn't join the order."

Draco poured another glass of fire whiskey from his cabinet. He knew this was going to be a long night.

"Merlin, Granger, I thought you were going to drop this." Hermione just laughed.

"Right."

"If you're done harassing me, you can leave now." Draco took a large swig from his cup and pulled another cigarette out of his packet, lighting it up.

"You know smoking's downright awful for you." Hermione shook her head, waving her hands in front of her face to clear the smoke that was no where near her.

"I like to do the kinds of things that are bad for me," Draco purred. He blew a large puff of smoke in Hermione's direction as he walked towards her, and she coughed dramatically. He was hovering above her, leaning down towards her neck. His lips barely grazing her ear. "It's refreshing."

Hermione gulped, and her legs almost gave out. Almost.

"Joining The Order would have been disastrous for you. You should've done that, if you're such a rebel." Hermione smiled, and Draco pulled slowly away from her ear, sighing.

"Wow, Granger, you really no how to kill the mood don't you," He murmured under his breath.

"Why didn't you?" Hermione played with the hem of her tank top.

"I was a Death Eater Granger! What don't you understand. I couldn't switch sides in the middle of the-" Hermione cut him off.

"You could have. You know that."

"Alright, I didn't WANT to switch sides." Hermione knew this was coming, but she continued to tug at him.

"Why not?"

"Because," Draco took a deep breath. He wasn't yelling anymore. "My whole life, that's how I grew up. Worshiping The Dark Lord, and it was working out fine for me. Up until I saw you and Bellatrix dueling each other." Draco sighed. Hermione looked at him, a guilty expression stained her face. "She would have killed you, you know." Hermione shook her head. She knew that. Of course she knew that. "You were so out of it, you had no idea she was about to curse you dead." Hermione shuddered.

"But I always knew you weren't bad. I mean, in the Astronomy tower-" Draco cut her off again, as he continued rummaging through his cupboards. He pulled his head up.

"Granger, you talk way to much." Hermione knew that was true, but in a way was happy with the answers he gave her. She knew that she couldn't get anymore out of him. These answers were close to alright. They were satisfying enough.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione looked up from the wall she was leaning against. Draco was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, which seemed to be much to large for someone who most likely didn't cook.

"Sure." Hermione smiled.

"Pinky come here," Draco called. Hermione groaned.

Hermione turned up her nose in distaste." Never mind." Draco looked up at Hermione and started laughing.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you were all about house elves' rights and all that junk." Draco laughed even more, and Hermione shook her head. He took another long pull of his cigarette and let it hang out of the corner of his mouth. He talked out of the other side. "Well I assure you Granger, Pinky is the only house elf here. And even that's because I can't set her free. Too many family secrets, you know."

Hermione twisted her face with displeasure. Draco stood for a moment longer before crossing the kitchen to Hermione and calling for her to follow him. Draco dragged her out of the kitchen, impatiently, into his larger than life sitting room, and up the long winding staircase, with a firm grip on her wrist.

"I am saying no. If you do anything to me, it's considered rape." Draco laughed, and stopped to turn to her on the stairs, resting close to her face.

"If I decided to do anything to you Granger, I assure you, you would not be saying no. In fact, I'm pretty sure you would be _screaming _yes." Hermione blushed, and Draco laughed loudly again. "There's something I want to show you."

Draco pulled a picture set on hinges open from it's spot on the wall, revealing a tunnel. Hermione stood at the entrance, wide-eyed as Draco started to creep through the passageway. He turned around to see a very scared and very reluctant Hermione Granger.

"I thought Gryyfindor's were supposed to be brave." He snorted.

"Yes, and Slytherin's are evil. Hence, I am not going in _there." Hermione pointed through the long winding tunnel._

"_Granger," Draco said in his calmest voice. The voice that sounded like music. The voice that could convince Hermione to jump off a bridge. It was sultry. "Trust me."_

_Hermione followed him down the long, dark passageway, for a whole minute, before she saw it. A very grand room, with hundreds of shelves lining the walls. There wasn't enough books in the world to fill this room, but somehow the Malfoy's had managed. It was the most impressive, and intricate library Hermione had ever seen. This is what he wanted to show her. _

"_There's even books from the restricted section from Hogwarts in here." Hermione's jaw dropped and Draco laughed from her expression. "I thought you might like it." _

_Hermione ran her fingers over a shelf of books that have done nothing but collect dust over they years._

"_I've tried to be up here, reading, as much as I can, but in dealing with my fathers estate, I haven't been able to come up at all." Draco looked at the books lining the walls, with a face full of regret._

"_Why are you showing this to me?" Hermione smiled. "Are you trying to make me jealous?" Draco laughed._

"_No, I wanted to tell you, that you can use it whenever you want." Hermione's smile quickly faded._

"_Draco, I-"_

"_It's set up on it's own floo channel, and I wouldn't ever really know you were here. Nobody knows about this library except me, my dead parents, and now you." Draco sighed. "It's just unfortunate to know that no one's getting any good use out of it." Hermione could not pass up an offer like this. She would have done anything to get her tiny little hands on this many books. Especially the kind that are only available in the wizarding world._

"_Wow," was all Hermione could manage to spit out. "This is impressive." Draco laughed again. _

"_Well, Pinky probably has the food ready by now, so we can go downstairs and eat, if you want." Hermione still looked around in awe. _

"_Yeah, can you just give me a minute?" Draco laughed. "I'll be right down, I promise."_

_Draco left Hermione alone in the library, and retreated downstairs. _

_Hermione walked around from each of the desks lining the walls. Each of them sporting untidy, disorganized pile's of books. Some volumes strewn across the floor. This library was absolutely, undeniably magnificent. _

_It had a lower level, that housed chairs in a half circle and a large, ostentatious fireplace in the middle of a wall of books. Desks in about every corner, complete with parchment, a quill and pots of ink. And the insurmountable amounts of books piled everywhere. Hermione swore to herself that one day she would read every single one of them. One day…_

_Hermione left the library, and continued to walk, hunch-backed, out of the long twisting tunnel. She turned around through the corridor to continue down the stairs when her eyes locked on a single wooden door down the hallway. Hermione crept quietly down the extensive, ominous hallway, her eyes set on the door. _

_The doorknob glistened silver, with the initials D. Malfoy sprawled around the key hole, in cursive. Hermione twisted the knob gently and the door creaked open. Hermione stepped carefully inside._

_It was as extravagant as the rest of Malfoy Manor. The room was over-elaborate, but not as large as the rest. In fact, it looked rather small in comparison to the other rooms of the house, Hermione had assumed. Draco's king sized bed stood in the middle of the bedroom, A dark green blanket billowing over the top, and his night stand stood next to the bed. There was an elongated desk planted in the corner of a wall, books piling over the edge of it. parchment crumpled around the floor. There were a decent amount of books in his room as well. His wardrobe stood in the opposite corner up against the wall, and a large window was barred shut. It felt warm. Almost like the rest of the house was cold, which Hermione had figured, originated from the fact that the previous owners of this house were both two of Voldemort's Highly regarded Death Eaters. Hermione walked into the room further, running her fingers along the green blanket across the bed. _

"_Figures," she laughed quietly._

"_I actually like the color green, Granger." Hermione jumped half a foot off the ground and turned around to find Draco standing closely behind her, a blank expression on his face. "It had nothing to do with my house colors." Hermione snorted, as she backed up against the wall. Although she would never admit it, she enjoyed being ambushed. And as much as she knew she hated admitting that, there was something she hated admitting to herself even more. That she trusted him. Draco followed Hermione to the corner of his room. _

"_I did a fairly good job at representing my house, don't you think?" Hermione laughed. This time she wasn't scared of him. She was a grown woman. And she had her wand… Her wand. It was downstairs in her purse. _

"_I represented green with pride." He laughed again, but quietly. "How about we see how green looks on you?" Draco was so close to Hermione he was sucking in most of her oxygen. "Or rather, on top of you." She couldn't breathe. Draco leaned in towards Hermione and with her quick level-headedness, she came up with something to say that was sure to puncture the moment. She did this just to piss him off. Just to be a menace. Draco started kissing Hermione's neck softly. The kisses weren't like before. Full of urge and lust. They were careful, and gentle._

"_Would I be the first woman to deny you?" Draco continued to kiss her collarbone, her neck, and her jaw, making his way slowly up to her lips, and Hermione felt the small instant burst of fire set off, deep in her stomach. _

"_Yes," He whispered in between breathless kisses. Hermione laughed quietly. _

"_Well then," She pulled away from Draco, still giggling softly. "I better be off." Draco shot his hands up against the wall, so that Hermione was pinned in the corner, by his body. She smiled._

"_I don't think so," he whispered, and before Hermione could protest, he captured her mouth in a kiss. _

_It was hot and passionate. Draco's lips caressed Hermione's own in an act of blind passion, and hunger. It was fervent and greedy. Hermione slid her mouth open, gently and Draco and Hermione fought for dominance in their kiss, each of their tongues flicking over one another's. The atmosphere tensed and became thick with their own breath. Draco slid one of his hands down the small of Hermione's back as she shivered, the other resting on the sensitive flesh behind her neck. _

_It was this friction and build-up that had amplified over the years. The two of them going from absolutely hating each other, to this. It was time for them to clear the air, and let go of everything they had held on to over the years concerning each other. For Hermione, this was the ultimate. She could finally move on, and forget about things. For Draco, he would quickly remember that she made him feel familiar. Each of them twisted up in a moment of new beginnings and old memories. Things that made them happy. Things that made them feel complete. _

_Draco tugged at the hem of Hermione's shirt, running his hands along her back as he lifted her tank top over her head. He continued kissing her neck slowly and sensually, as Hermione threw her head back and let out a soft, lighthearted moan. The process was painful. In Hermione's head she did nothing but beg for him to use his wand to remove all of their clothing. But the build was so intense, it was sending a throbbing sensation down and out her entire body. Her legs were weak, her head was spinning._

_Hermione dragged Draco over to the bed, pulling him on top of her. His body humming with pleasure, as she slid her tiny hands over his back, pulling off his shirt. This was so precious and endearing, that he hadn't wanted it to go wrong. He turned his life around, and it was because of her. He hadn't dated, or gotten serious with anyone, because of her. He fought of the intense pain in his arm, because of her. He realized it was all because of her… Because he really did care about her._

"_Granger," Draco moaned. She wouldn't be stopped. Just like in everything else, if she set her mind to something, she would never cease. Not until she got what she wanted, and Draco knew exactly what that was. Her hips were grinding forcefully into his, as her small white hands traveled down to the belt buckle on Draco's pants._

"_Granger." He called her name more brutally, in between their heated kisses. She looked deep into his eyes._

_Panting, she whispered. "wh-what?" She breathed heavily. The sight of her chest heaving through her dark bra was enough to drive Draco into a maddening frenzy. _

"_Are you sure- you want- to do this?" Draco heaved, in between deep breaths. _

_Hermione paused for a moment. "Of course I'm sure." Draco shook his head, and closed his eyes as if he were in pain._

_He didn't need anymore convincing. Draco looked Hermione up and down. It was true, he would have waited had she said no, but he figured she was ready. He could feel it. But if Hermione had, in fact, said no, Draco sure would have had a difficult time listening to her. _

"_You know," Hermione whispered. She twisted Draco around so that was straddling him, shamelessly, on top of his green, satin bed spread. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. "You talk entirely to much."_

_Hermione kissed him again, this time with meaning. There was passion, and grace, and love there. They had both felt it. Which made for one of the greatest most pleasurable experiences they would ever endure together. But neither of the two were brave enough to admit the feelings they had sheltered towards one another. Curiosity, and sensuality. Friendship, and most importantly, love._

_Draco rolled Hermione over so that she lay on her back, and he carefully slid her jeans off of her small figure. Her ghostly white skin glistened in the dark, and the scent of it sent shivers throughout Draco's body. They wanted, and they wanted intensely. _

_Draco rested both his hands firmly on his bed, as Hermione slid her hands over his loose belt buckle and tugged his jeans off with her feet. The rest of the clothes that had posed serious threat to their spurt of passion had been tossed violently to the floor, and Hermione wrapped her legs around Draco's muscular frame._

_Hermione's back arced in pleasure as a soft whimper escaped her swollen lips. Draco made his way down Hermione's neck, to the swell of her breasts and let his tongue run over the skin slowly, eliciting an intense moan of pleasure from her. Hermione tossed all her inhibitions out the window. This was not the kind of behavior she had been known to illustrate. But it felt so wonderful. She had grown up, and it felt profound._

_Draco ran his hand along Hermione's inner thigh as her hips crashed into his again. Draco let a low growl escape his lips, as he kissed his way up to Hermione's mouth. Draco slithered down her body, to her middle, and sunk his teeth into her skin. Hermione cried out in satisfaction, as Draco's tongue slipped around her opening. He kissed her thighs, and then rested his lips on her right hip, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh._

"_Oh God," Hermione moaned. It pleased him to be able to arouse this kind of reaction from her. He would make this worth her while… His arm throbbed in pain as he ran his hands up and down her smooth skin. Hermione beckoned for him. _

"_Please," she muttered, her legs spread apart, and wrapped around Draco, his arm still in intense pain. Draco positioned himself above Hermione and joined their bodies. He waited a moment for the burning in his arm to die down. The dark mark more present than ever, as he moved in sync with Hermione's body. A small groan fleeing from her dark pink lips. Draco leaned in towards her neck, burying his face in the space above her collar. Not as a result of pleasure, but of pain. A growl seeped from his lips, as his body continued to move. Hermione cried out again, as Draco's hand shot up to cover her mouth._

"_Shh," he whispered in her ear. Hermione settled., and closed her eyes in pain as well. The burning sensation in her middle never ceasing to come to an end. The glow of pleasure was dying down at an agonizing pace, as Draco and Hermione were still connected together. Hermione arced into him again, out of discomfort, and she pleaded with her body for him to continue._

"_What's wrong?" she murmured as quietly as possible. Draco could sense the hint of fear in her voice. He pulled himself out of her, scrambling to get their clothes off the floor._

"_Get dressed really quietly, okay?" Draco whispered. Hermione moaned and shook her head nervously, as Draco threw the last of his clothes on. Hermione rocked herself out of bed and joined him on the floor, standing close behind him. She leaned over and saw it. His very threatening, very obvious Dark Mark. It practically radiated heat, and Draco took Hermione in his arms and fled to his wardrobe. _

"_Walk though here, okay?" Hermione looked at him wide-eyed._

"_Malfoy, this is a closet." He shook his head and moved the clothes out of the way, to reveal a large tunnel. Much like the one behind the picture. _

"_I'm not leaving without you." Hermione spat. Draco shook his head again._

"_I'll be right behind you, Granger, just go." _

_Hermione needed no further prompting. "Alright you're going to go straight, then make a left, and then another left, and we're going to end up in the library okay?" Hermione shook her head_

"_Alright." She started down the long, winding corridor. Fear bubbling up inside her. There were Death Eaters here, she knew it. Hermione heard a small click, and turned around suddenly. Draco wasn't behind her and the door had shut itself. Hermione fled back to the opening but soon realized it was locked, and wouldn't budge. She had no one with her, to protect her, and tell her exactly were it was she was going, she was still very much so hot and bothered, and she had left her wand downstairs. Hermione did the next best thing she could. She listened to Draco and walked down the elongated, twisting hallway by herself. She made one left, and then another, and quickly came to a small door, much like the one from the inside of the wardrobe. Hermione looked around the corridor, and listened intently. She placed her ear up against the door, and tried desperately to hear something, anything to make sure that it was safe enough for her to open the door. Hermione pried the small opening ajar, slightly to look around the room. Nobody was there. Hermione stepped out of the hole, and dropped down onto the desk below, and then stepped onto the floor. She was beginning to walk slowly up to the fireplace when she felt a warm hand slither around her mouth, the other snaked its way around her waist, locking in her arms._

"_Long time no see," The voice whispered, and Hermione knew exactly who it was._


	7. Army of the Black Skulls

A/N: I thought I should be upfront and honest with you guys… I had no idea where I was going with this story, that is, until I came across that loophole opening in the ending of the last chapter. So I can assure you… This is going to get VERY interesting.

As readers you're either going to love it or you're going to hate it. But I really do hope the majority of you chose the first option. Lol… Well, here you go! Sorry this took so long.

Thanks to all my reviewers!! You guys truly make my day… scratch that- week! I love you guys!

Ch. 7 (The Army of the black skull)

Hermione stood, frozen in place, with Blaise's hand still snaked around her mouth. She couldn't move. She couldn't think. She could barely breathe. The only thing Hermione could do now, was pray. Tears seeped through her eyelids, as she gasped for air. Blaise's hand clamped tighter around her as he whispered empty threats in her ear.

"You should consider yourself lucky, Granger, that the good guys found you." Hermione half snorted.

The good guys. That could quite possibly have been one of the most ridiculous things she had ever heard. There where no good guys here. Only Death Eaters.

In that instance Draco burst through the door, looking frantic, yet grateful. Hermione knew it, deep down, but she thought she would deny it, especially after what they had just done together; or, had almost done. The likeliness of that happening was slim. At least that is what she had believed before all this happened. Now she didn't know what to believe. It was true, something was going on, but Hermione felt that maybe she could see the good in Draco that nobody else could.

There was no way she had been set up. No way.

Blaise let go of Hermione's body, and thrust her forward into Draco, who wrapped his arms tightly around her body. Hermione Struggled to get free, but it was no use, he held his firm death grip around her back. It felt like he would crush her lungs. Blaise took a step back.

"Malfoy, that was a close call. One second later and you and the mudblood would've both been dead." Blaise shook his head defiantly.

"Yes, I know _Zabini_." Draco snorted, and looked up angrily at his fellow Slytherin. "And Don't call her that." Hermione stood still, shocked, under Draco's warm arms. Wrapped up in his tight embrace. She could barely breathe, but she didn't want to. Not if it meant escaping what was happening. The air slipping out of her body, burning all of her organs. Her blood pulsing underneath her paper-thin flesh. Her eyes closing, as her body slowly withered away. Her lungs decaying. All Hermione could think about was release. If she held onto her last breath long enough, she could escape.

"Granger, breathe." Draco shook her in his arms, and Hermione sucked in a large and painful breath of sweet air. The smell of books being inhaled through her nostrils. She was stuck. Forced to surrender to Death Eaters. She wanted nothing more than for Draco to let her go, and get it all over with.

"Just kill me now, I don't know what you're waiting for." Hermione closed her eyes tightly as she buried her head in Draco's chest.

"What are you talking about Granger?" Hermione slipped out from underneath his arms, as he loosened his grip. She took one moment. One absent-minded moment and she grabbed Draco's wand, pointing it at his confused face. He felt his pockets, and smiled.

Hermione could feel Blaise's wand pointed at the back of her head, but she didn't care. That was the price of being the good guy. One less Death Eater, but at the expense of your own life.

She didn't care at all.

"Tell me what exactly is going on here, Malfoy," Hermione spat. It didn't matter her tone of voice. The two Slytherin boys could tell she was nervous, and unaware of everything that was happening. She was vulnerable, and she was never like that. She looked deep into Draco's eyes, and they both connected, if only for a second, it was as if time had stopped. There was no danger, no worry. Because they were there, with each other. Blaise looked up at Draco whose eyes were pinched with worry, and a hint of sorrow. That wasn't like Draco either. Both of them were so out of character, it was as if…

"Oh my God, Malfoy, You had sex with _Granger_!" Hermione spun her head around, and Draco swiftly stole his wand back, placing it in his pocket. Blaise lowered his, and looked up questioningly at the two.

He knew the answer. He didn't have to ask a second time. Although, it wasn't entirely true, there was something going on between the two old rivals. Something even they didn't understand.

"Forget it. Could someone please, just explain to me what's going on." Hermione didn't care about hiding her fear anymore. The brave Gryffindor had left her body, and was now replaced with the muggle bit of Hermione Granger. She was terrified.

"Granger," Draco started slowly. "Me, Blaise, and a couple other old Slytherin's started a," he paused. "Club, or Fraternity together at Hogwarts." Hermione was trying to process it all. But it seemed as though, she was at a loss for words. "We worked from the inside. Vouching to be crazed Death Eaters, when in reality, we were a branch of the good guys."

"Well, sort of." Blaise interrupted. It would kill Draco to have to tell Hermione why.

"We still killed. We still had dark marks, yet we tried to do everything in our power to defeat Voldemort from the inside, as though he would never expect it." Draco ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

"Boy were we wrong," Blaise shook his head. "The day the moron saved you, was the day that Bellatrix Lestrange, in all her quacked out glory, tattled on him." Blaise pointed at Draco, who kept his eyes locked on the ground. "Voldemort found one of the members of The army and tortured him for information."

"Then he killed him." Draco's eyes snapped up to Hermione, who looked up at him with sympathy. His grey eyes were plagued.

"Anyways, all the brothers who have been found out are in hiding, and all the other members of the brotherhood are still claiming to be Death Eaters. Still loyal to The army." Blaise finished. "That's why Draco doesn't live here anymore. Or at least, _he shouldn't." Blaise looked up at Draco._

"_I was trying to outrun her annoying questions." _

"_Either way, you guys have to get out of here. Death Eaters are bound to be showing face soon enough, and I'd rather not be around when they do." Blaise snapped. All three walked over to the fireplace, and picked up a handful of floo powder._

"_Draco, They'll figure out we're we've gone off too," Blaise stated matter-of-factly. Draco only smiled._

"_Only me, Granger, my dead parents, and somehow, you, know about this library." Hermione smiled as well. "It's got it's own floo channel. We'll be fine." Blaise sighed in relief. _

"_How did you know about this place anyways?" Draco questioned. Hermione suddenly started to get nervous. _

"_I'm in the Army of the Black Skulls. I know everything." Draco let out a booming laugh and Blaise walked up to Hermione, looking deep into her soft brown eyes._

"_Is your house connected to the Floo network?" Hermione took in a deep breath. _

_Draco intervened. "No, I don't want her getting pulled into this."_

"_She's already been pulled into this, because you couldn't keep your pants on!" Blaise shouted. Hermione looked at the ground embarrassed. "Hermione?" Blaise looked down at her impatiently. "We haven't got much time."_

"_Yeah, it is." With that, Hermione threw in the floo powder._

"_Residence of Hermione Jean Granger," Hermione stated, very clearly and In a puff of obnoxious green smoke, she was gone. Blaise and Draco waited behind. _

"_I have to go get her wand." Draco murmured, sprinting down the stairs. He picked up her purse and ran back to the library as fast as he could, and Blaise was gone as well. _

_Draco threw in the powder and whispered. "The residence of Hermione Jean Granger." He smiled at her name, as he stepped into the green fire, and appeared inside Hermione's flat. _

_It was an even longer night than Draco could have ever anticipated._


	8. Reality Hits Home

A/N: This chapter has been REVAMPED and EDITED! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Song: "Missed my chance" By: Griffin house

Chapter 9- When Reality Hits Home

There were seconds, then minutes, then years that I could not breatheIn the Pere Lachaise with the hammer the chisel and the stoneNow I've bartered and begged for what I believedAnd I saw that the name engraved was my ownNow there's nothing so peaceful as when I met youAnd there's nothing so lonely as when it was throughAnd the words "I'm not here anymore" echo into? "I missed my chance with you"

"Missed my chance" -Griffin House

Draco whirled into Hermione's little house, his dark clothes covered in dust. He patted himself off as he took in his surroundings. It was just like he had remembered, only brighter, and mostly- under better circumstances this time. There would be no row to top off all rows this time. Nor would there be any mind blowing, earth shattering kisses. They had more important matters to attend to.

Blaise, Draco and Hermione all slid into a cold wooden chair in her tidy little kitchen. All of them looking disheveled, worried, and ravenous. Draco noticed an open window above her kitchen sink that was dangerously close to letting in some overgrown plants from outside. He could smell their scent from his place at her kitchen table. Jasmine. Vanilla. So like Hermione. It was soothing and comforting. Something he needed after all they had just gone through.

With Hermione and Draco they had experienced, from time to time, a comfortable silence in each others presence. This time though, the silence was awkward and grueling. It had to end, or it would drive Hermione and her perfectionist persona to the ultimate edge.

"So you guys have been fighting off Death Eaters, all these year, and weren't ever caught by Lord Voldemort?" Blaise and Draco looked at each other, cringing at the use of the Dark Lord's name, shaking their heads. "Sorry," Hermione murmured, still very much so baffled. "I still don't quite get it." Draco ran his hands through his bright blonde hair, tousling it about the edges of his chiseled face.

"We're death eaters. Both very trusted throughout the ranks." The fear had been re-instilled inside Hermione. Fear, for lack of a better term.

She wasn't just fearing the fact that these two death eaters were planted at her kitchen table. She was terrified. She was shaken, and she was chagrined.

Most of all, she was angry beyond all reason, but Hermione felt oddly safe with both Blaise and Draco there, in her house. Hermione couldn't have remained in a more bitter state of confusion, with this mix of emotions stewing around her. Blaise shook his head in agreement.

"We were told things," Draco continued. "Things that only The Dark Lords' most trusted death eaters could be trusted with." He narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Very secret things. Mostly locations of other Death Eaters, whereabouts, targets, things of that nature." Hermione followed along intently. "We would feed Snape the information, and he would know what to do with it from there."

It all started to make sense for Hermione, but there were pieces still missing from Draco's story. She had so many questions, but she couldn't seem to open her mouth wide enough for thoughts and full sentences to spill out. It was as if all the words had evaporated off of her tongue.

It wasn't exactly shocking, but it was definitely a surprise. Hermione hadn't expected Draco to be a good guy before meeting him two weeks before hand. She still thought he was a loyal death eater. It was all starting to fall into place, but fall out of place at the exact same time, and it was killing Hermione. The little Brain. The know it all, still had no clue.

"Well," Hermione bit her lip, self consciously. "Who else was in this coven, err… brotherhood, I don't know exactly what you called it…" Hermione trailed off.

"Army of the black skulls," Blaise stated, proudly, sending Hermione a wink.

"Yes, that," Hermione tucked a piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, before shifting her gaze to the floor. "Who else was a part of it?"

"Oh," Draco looked taken back. "Well, there was Marcus Flint, Terrence Higgs, Zabini; naturally" Draco pointed towards Blaise from across Hermione's kitchen table, a bright, toothy smile sheltered a pleasant contrast to his dark skin. It was somewhat comforting, and almost humorous. _Almost _humrous. "There was also Benjamin Mandeville, Rowan Hargill, Emerson Nab, and of course, me." Draco finished, laughing at Hermione's befuddled expression.

The relaxed tone died down almost instantly.

"There were a few others," Draco started, darkly, gearing his eyes towards the floor. "But they never made it past a few meetings." Hermione shook her head again, this time in disbelief. "Despite what your precious order may think, The Dark Lord is not daft." If Hermione hadn't known any better, she would have guessed it pained Draco to talk about the members of the Army he had lost. Just like it bothered Hermione to talk about member of the Order she had lost. This war had taken away people that were so incredibly dear to her. The same had applied to Draco Malfoy. Whether she liked to believe it or not… Draco had lost just as much as she had.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, irritably. It was nearing some odd o'clock in the morning, and Hermione had yet to feel the lethargy grace her body. That is, until now. Draco, upon looking at Hermione, pulled his chair out and tucked it underneath the table.

"Come on, lets get you to bed." Draco sighed, before attempting to pull Hermione's chair out as well. What he hadn't planned on was Blaise laughing at his caring gesture. Draco couldn't help it though. It seemed Hermione brought out a side of him, that he thought he had hid a long, long time ago. Draco tugged on Hermione's arm to bring her upright, out of her chair, but she recoiled, yelling loudly and stood up rather fast, inches from Draco's face. Blaise laughed even harder at this.

"No!" Draco took a step back, looking aghast. "I just mean that I have a lot more questions for you guys…" Draco sighed once again, and helped Hermione, who teetered over, attempt to control her balance problems.

"I figured you would," Draco snorted, and Hermione crossed her arms. "Granger, me and Zabini will be here in the morning. You can ask us all the questions you want once you wake up. Until then, I suggest you get some sleep. You look drained." Hermione creased her eyebrows, as the rest of her face adopted a very sarcastic appearance.

"Thanks Malfoy," She sneered.

"No problem." Draco smiled. He couldn't help but laugh at the fact that half the reason Hermione looked and felt so weary was because of him, and well, what they had done together… It amused him. It also made him proud.

"Seriously… I can't wait, I have to ask-" But Hermione was cut off by her own squeal of discomfort, as Draco picked her up in his chiseled, pale arms and carried her, over his shoulder, to her bedroom. "Malfoy, put me down!" She screamed, as she beat hopelessly on his back. Blaise continued to laugh wildly as his friend carried this tiny, frantic, stubborn woman to her bed, plopping her down on her cozy little duvet. It was even warmer and more inviting than she had remembered. Draco pulled the quilt up around Hermione and laughed heartily as she glowered, unsuccessfully.

"You're really bad at that you know." Hermione only laughed sarcastically.

"Sorry, I'm not a Slytherin. I haven't had years to perfect my illusion of evil." Draco smirked purposely, attempting to cause a rift of forged jealousy to course through Hermione.

"Even with years of practice, I don't think you would have been any good." Draco laughed meaningfully, and turned to leave the room, after taking a long, lingering look at the girl that lay below him.

"Draco," Hermione whispered barely loud enough so that he would turn around to face her in the doorway of her bedroom. She had said his first name. He loved the way it sounded coming from her. Breathy and sultry. He wanted to hear it more. A dozen times. When he woke up and when he went to sleep.

He wondered if she wanted to hear her name.

"Yes Hermione?" Draco smirked again.

"There's blanket's in the cupboard by the fireplace…" Hermione mustered the best smug look she could, which seemed to present the effect she had intended, because Draco looked at her skeptically and with slight confusion. "Have fun sleeping on the couch." Hermione raised her eyebrows and laughed coldly before snuggling up close to the duvet that shielded her away from the mild frost that pressed on throughout her room.

Hermione was tired, there was no doubt about it. However, she did not feel compelled to sleep. It was funny, really. Draco was fresh, and raw, and when she was with him, Hermione never really remembered anything. Tonight, it haunted her, shamelessly. This quilt was from Mrs. Weasley. And there was a framed picture of Hermione and Ginny in their short little dresses, ready to go out after Hermione, Ron, and Harry had all graduated. There was another picture of Her and Harry, that had been flipped over.

Flipped over. Simply because Hermione couldn't bare to look at it.

It wasn't that she couldn't deal with Harry's death, or her and Ron breaking up, it was simply that she had forgotten. She was numb for a while, her entire self. She couldn't feel a thing. Not a bit of emotion, and since everything had happened so fast, it was as if it hadn't happened at all. Harry had been gone for a year. Ron had been gone, too. And with Ron, Ginny had been forced out of the equation. It hurt like Hermione could have never imagined. The pain that had swelled up in the middle of her chest, sent a ripping, gaping hole through her heart, and she needed something, _anything_ to help her heal. To get her back to normal again.

Hermione needed air.

(Listen to "Missed my chance" By: Griffin house)

This swing was her haven. The hammock was literally were it all had happened. Where she had come the day after she had left the burrow, after Harry's funeral. The day that she and Ron had decided to split up. She had also come here plenty of times last week, contemplating all that had happened between her and Draco and that damned muggle bar.

It was here that Hermione felt weightless. Breathless. Like she didn't have to worry about anything, even though it all hit home when she sat there, lulling herself gently. She was content enough to rely on the stars, this hammock, the wind whistling through the grass, and the glow of the moon on her pale face. This was all Hermione looked forward to her entire life. Being able to be here, in this exact moment, where nothing seemed to phase her. Where her pain was far away, and distant, and she never had to worry about things being perfect, or her plans working out.

It was this moment, and everything was suspended in time.

Hermione could almost hear the heart-wrenching music playing in the background, as the stars cast their golden light over her. It was finished. This old chapter of her life was closed, and she was about to spin right into a new one without giving it a second thought.

Hermione never had time to properly grieve for Harry. For she had been to busy with her business with The Order; trying to rally up the Death Eaters and send them off to Azkaban. She didn't get to grieve for her loss of Ron or Ginny or the Weasley's because she had met Draco, and she had been more consumed trying to relinquish the fact that she and Ron had been together at all. Hermione couldn't stand the fact that she didn't have Ron or Harry anymore.

She didn't have her two best friends. She didn't have Ginny. She didn't have The Order- she hadn't been contacted. She was loosing her students… It was then that Hermione felt it.

A tear. A single, salty spool of water trailing down her cheek, and she gasped, touching her face gingerly. The water smeared over he pale pink cheek, and she lost it. She was crying. She could _finally _cry. Not because she had just finished watching her foolish romance film, or because she felt like she wasn't going to get her happy ending. No. Hermione cried because she was sincerely heart broken.

She had no one now. Not even Draco and Blaise; who were still sleeping soundly in her living room. They weren't her real friends. They weren't the genuine good guys she had known. They weren't Harry or Ron, or Ginny. They would never be able to provide her with the love and comfort that the Weasley's had afforded. They would never be able to read her like Harry and Ron could. They wouldn't be able to make her feel any better. They couldn't fix her. It was as simple as that.

Hermione rested her wavy locks on the back of the hammock. One leg jut out over the edge as she swung back and forth in the warm wind of the night, lulling her aching body to rest. Her heart literally contorted in pain. She wouldn't be allowed a peaceful moment tonight, and she didn't care. Hermione welcomed this sorrow, and piercing twinge with open arms, because she was no longer numb to everything that had happened in the past year. Her best friend was dead, and she could _finally_ grieve.

Hermione could ultimately come to terms with the fact that she had to face the Weasley's sooner or later. She knew this would crush them. It hurt her as well, but she prayed. Merlin, she had prayed until her hands blistered from the force she set between her palms. She prayed that they would welcome her back to their family. She missed having them. She missed Ginny, and whether she was ready or not to admit it, she missed having Ron as a friend. She couldn't loose Harry and then Ron altogether, as well. It was too much.

She could tell now, how much it would hurt if she could never speak to them again, judging by the burning sensation in her chest, it would be unbearable. She needed them more than they could ever have possibly known. She needed Ginny back. She missed her and her girlish bantering. She missed Fred and George and their crude, mindless humor. She missed Mrs. Weasley's comforting, motherly nature. She had in fact, missed Ron, as well.

She sincerely missed the reality that he had known almost everything he could possibly know about her. She missed that he was one of the few ties she had left to Harry. But most of all she missed her best friend. That's what they were, first and foremost. Friends.

Hermione missed The Order as well. Her old Hogwarts classmates' names sifted through her mind. Although she knew it would never be the same, Hermione didn't care. She missed them nonetheless. But what she missed most, could never be sustained.

Hermione missed herself. She missed the old, stubborn, know-it-all Hermione Granger. The girl she was back in school. The girl she could never become again.

Hermione would forever remember The Golden Trio, and how much she regrets it shattering to pieces right before her eyes. She would remember tomorrow, how much pain it had caused her the night before. She would remember her and Harry and Ron numerous eventful years at Hogwarts. All their misadventures. Every obstacle they overcame together, leading straight to this- this moment on the edge of time.

Hermione sitting on her swing, weeping softly. Two Death Eaters strewn casually across her living room floor, sleeping peacefully. Ron and Ginny back at the burrow, together, but alone. This is what it had all amounted to. And yet people could walk around outside and not fear for their lives. Not really, at least. The Death Eaters banding together wasn't a big deal to many wizards and witches. Not compared to what they could have been afraid of. Death eaters were nothing to them. People were safe now because of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But to look at the cost. Hermione wondered if it had all been worth it.

"Of course it was worth it," Hermione muttered to herself before turning her attention back to the sizzling pancake batter. Draco and Blaise were just beginning to stir, and Hermione took it upon herself to cook them both breakfast. After all, she had a lot of questions that needed attentive answering.

Draco crept up behind Hermione, his bare chest grazing her back, making her shiver slightly. Hermione stepped forward, instinctively, as Draco leaned in close to her ear.

"Smells good, Granger." He smiled and Hermione turned around swiftly, waving the spatula in his face.

"I know it does, now go take care of your blankets, and put a shirt on," Draco stepped back, bemused and laughed quietly to himself before scuttling to the living room. Blaise took a moment, surveyed his surroundings, noticed the home cooked food, and plopped down at the kitchen table impatiently. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. He looked like a child, freshly woken up, and famished like this. Hermione wondered how long it had been since they had home cooked food. They were both twenty four year old. Men, of course, and utterly hopeless when it came to doing anything for themselves. Hermione realized that it must have been a _long_ time.

Draco sat next to Blaise at the table, his head in his hands, as he groaned loudly.

"Your couch isn't very comfortable, Granger." Hermione just laughed.

"No kidding." She smiled ruthlessly, flipping a golden brown pancake over as Draco smirked confidently. It reminded her of Hogwarts, that smirk did. That little blonde boy who was completely incompetent and horrid to her. It made Hermione cringe.

"Well then," Draco shrugged. "I guess I call your bed tonight." Blaise looked at Draco with a completely amused expression across his face. His eyebrows raised suggestively at the two.

"First of all," Hermione spat "Ew, Zabini. Get your mind straight." Blaise laughed and Draco looked slightly amused as well. "As for you, _Malfoy_" She sneered his name heartlessly, gaining an 'I'm impressed' expression from Draco. "You will _not_ be calling my bed, because I will be sleeping there tonight." She scooped the pancakes up off the frying pan, tossed them on a small plate, sending them clattering across the kitchen table. Blaise picked one up, and started to pick it apart, shoving tiny pieces in his mouth. "I'd like a good night's sleep, too, if you don't mind." Hermione reached around for her lower back and started rubbing small circles into her tense skin.

The truth was, Hermione had fallen asleep on the hammock outside, and got an awful night's sleep. She had woken up very early in the morning, much to her distaste, with an intense ache in her back, and a crick in her neck that she couldn't seem to work out.

"But you got a good night's sleep yesterday, Granger. You were in your bed, after all. Weren't you?" Draco looked more towards Hermione for reassurance than for an actual answer. Hermione shook her head as her face twisted in pain.

"Yeah, I guess so." Draco grabbed a pancake off the plate and slipped a tiny piece in his mouth, half expecting it to be horrible. It was, much to his surprise, delicious. Hermione could cook. Who knew.

Hermione sat down at her table across from Blaise and Draco, not bothering to eat any food. After her night last night, she couldn't really eat anything.

"Alright, so…" Hermione drawled on, half excitedly. Draco and Blaise looked at each other, waiting for Hermione's relentless rift of questions. When she paused to put her head between her hands, Draco noticed the tiny blisters on the base of her palm.

"Merlin, Hermione, what were you _doing_ last night." Draco scoffed, but Hermione merely sighed.

"Not right now." She paused, letting her long brown hair fall over her shoulder, as she brought her hands back around to her temples. "Anyways, it's my turn to ask questions."


	9. Wash Over You

**WARNING: **Grab a fan, turn it on full blast… It gets a little steamy in this chapter.

**IMPORTANT A/N: **I had this new idea. I'm going to tell you guys a song to listen to while you read the chapter(s) and you can either chose to listen to the song while you read or not. I will be picking the song depending on the mood I set when I write everything. I thought about it for a while… and the song I was listening to while I was writing this was so intense, this feeling just washed over me and made me realise that it could be a good idea to do this.

Anyways, the song is entitled "I know you are but what am I" by: Mogwai. So Listen! (when it tells you to, once again) Read! Enjoy!

Big ups to **lizzievamp **for her most gracious review!! Lol, thanks!!

Disclaimer: JKR owns the right to Harry Potter. I own the plot, and the plot alone.

Ch 9. (Letting it all wash over you)

"How long has this been going on? Did you guys hold meetings at Hogwarts? What exactly was it that made you guys turn to the good side? Why didn't you just join the order, I mean it probably would have been a lot easier than-"

"Hermione." Draco had snapped. The questions had gone on far to long, and Hermione was beginning to look blue in the face.

"Right, sorry." She looked slightly embarrassed, and only rubbed her temples with her small, boney fingers.

"We started this back at Hogwarts, and yeah we held meetings. Sort of like your D.A, or whatever it was." Draco took another breath and looked at Hermione. Mostly because he had wanted to see if his answers were satisfying her. "We didn't join the Order, for obvious reasons." Draco rolled up the sleeves to his tight black shirt, in the process, unmasking a very ominous dark mark. It had never relinquished itself. Even with Voldemort's defeat, and Harry Potter, The boy-who-didn't-get-to-live, gone. The Death eaters had no right to live normal lives. They were very much, still under 'his' control.

At that moment, Hermione had felt more sorry for Draco than she had ever felt for him before.

"We all got tattoo's, too!" Blaise shouted, lifting up his shirt to reveal his bare back.

"There's nothing there…" Hermione bunched together her face, shaking her head back and forth, befuddled.

"Right," murmured Zabini. With the tap of his wand, a large, very intricate flaming skull appeared on his back side. It covered the entire surface of his skin. Hermione wondered then, whether or not Draco had one.

"So, does that mean, that you have one as well?" Hermione asked believingly. Draco looked at Hermione, and lifted his t-shirt, tapping his wand at his back to reveal the same flaming skull. It marred his perfect porcelain skin, but still sent chills up and down Hermione's spine.

"So what do you guys do now?" Hermione looked around, in a mad attempt to read the boy's faces.

"Watch our backs," Zabini answered after a long painful pause.

Draco was still looking at Hermione. His silver- grey eyes staring intensely at this girl he went to school with. She was glowing. Her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her brown locks still cascading to the middle of her back. Her cotton pajama pants, hugging her hips made it hard for Draco to take his eyes away from her, and he thought back to the night that they had spent together. How they had almost-

Almost.

It had been slightly too painful to remember. As Blaise sat at the kitchen table, explaining everything to Hermione, Draco couldn't help but sense that everything was moving in slow motion. The way she would touch her face gently, or run her hands up and down the side of the table. Draco couldn't think. He couldn't breath, and he could barely swallow, when he choked down the words that threatened to spill over the edge of his lips. He needed to get out of that kitchen.

"Can I help you guys?" Hermione looked from Draco to Blaise then back again.

"I know one way you can help Draco, but…" Blaise traveled off, as Hermione's cheeks turned a bright crimson red. "I digress."

"I meant, can I join you guys or something?" Hermione asked ,seriously. Draco snorted.

"You have to be a pureblood, a Slytherin, and a death eater, Granger." Draco scoffed. "And even if you were all those things, I still wouldn't let you join." Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"Well I can help you guys out by giving you a safe place. Like here. This can be your headquarters, or something. I can help that way." Blaise considered the offer. Hermione could see that, but Draco was still dead set against it.

"No."

"Draco, it wouldn't be such a bad idea. I mean, we don't really have anywhere else to go." Blaise sputtered, but Draco still did not comply.

"No. She's not getting dragged into this." Hermione laughed.

"I've already been dragged into this."

There wasn't really anything Draco could say against that. Hermione was as much a part of this small war as he was, but she was the only one who had made it clear which side she was fighting for.

"Godric Gryffindor! It's death eaters for Merlin's sake!" Hermione huffed. "It's not like I haven't dealt with worse." Draco lifted his chin at her and shook his head. Hermione bit her lip, expecting him to tear her head off for arguing with him. It was only a matter of seconds before she would refute and explode as well, so instead of trying to appease her, Draco just added fuel to the fire.

"The answer is no, and that's final." Draco leaned forward in his chair, towards Hermione. A smug expression splashed across his face. Hermione leaned in to match his stance. Without breaking eye contact, she quickly addressed the only person there that could break the tie.

"Blaise, what do you think?" Hermione looked deep into Draco's eyes as Blaise murmured something along the lines of 'we could use her mate.' Draco's smug expression was cast aside, revealing his truly worried state as it reflected through his bright silver eyes. Hermione continued to look at him. Her breathing quickened, leaving her chest to visibly throb underneath the thin fabric of her black cotton tank top. Draco sat back in his chair, brushing his hands through his hair.

"So it's settled then." She said forcefully. "This is officially your new headquarters." Hermione smiled brightly, while Draco continued to look down at the table. Blaise returned the smile and slapped Draco on the arm.

"Come on mate, it won't be so bad." Draco laughed and looked back up at Hermione a hint of fear detectable in his eyes. Hermione, of course, avoided thinking any further of it.

Hermione lifted out of her seat to the living room and helped the guys pick up their blankets, letting each of them take a shower in the bathroom down the hall. She herself, needed one. She had, after all, had a long night before.

"I think we should go out and celebrate." Hermione beamed as she quickly toweled off her hair,and whispered a drying spell over her chocolate brown locks. "Draco, I'm sure Mathelda would like to see you again." Draco's perfect pink lips pulled up the corner of his face. Hermione smiled again, and clapped her hands together. "Great, well I'll go get ready, and you guys can clean up if you want. There's actually a guest bedroom down the hall, but I didn't feel like telling you guys that last night." She smiled brighter, as Blaise's jaw dropped.

"Thanks a lot Granger," He snorted. Draco only laughed.

Hermione went to her bedroom to get ready. She muttered a quick "conve siono," Before slipping into a small jean skirt, and loose dark green tank top, decorated in rhinestones and sequins. It was classy enough, but slightly revealing at the same time. The skirt had in fact been one that she refused to wear earlier on in the year, when she had been dating Ron, but Hermione thought that since she was starting a new chapter in her life, she could sure use a new outfit.

Hermione took one last look in the mirror. Her long brown hair was pinned back, letting loose curls fall outside of the style. Her eyelashes were long and dark with mascara, curling over the edges of her eye, and her face looked clean, smooth and pale. Hermione grabbed a pair of dark green high heels, as she quickly headed outside of her room, to find the two men waiting for her. Both looked ready enough as they could be without their own wardrobes here, but Hermione had noticed that they had accio'd some clothes over to her house. Draco's dark black shirt hung slightly loose around his muscles, this time, he wore short sleeves. The dark mark visible to every human eye. Blaise looked very much the same, but had worn tan slacks instead of black pants, like Draco. They both gawked at her when she walked into the living room.

Before Blaise could manage to spurt out a crude comment, Draco was pushing them both through the front door, yelling "Come on let's go!"

Xoxo--

The place had been much more crowded tonight. There were couples everywhere, dancing, drinking, laughing. Mathelda beamed brightly as all three of them walked in the bar. It had been apparent to both Hermione and Blaise that Mathelda had thought that Draco had no friends. Her smile widened, if at all possible, at the sight of the two trailing behind Draco. Mathelda's mouth dropped. At the sight of Hermione and her revealing outfit.

"Why, doll, don't you just look amazing!" She screamed. Almost every head at the bar turned to look at her, in her small outfit. Hermione blushed furiously as Mathelda winked at Draco and hurried them over to sit down. "What can I get for you guys?"

Blaise looked stumped. "firewhi-" He started, but Draco had cut him off.

"Two whiskey's, and a water." Draco looked over at Hermione who lowered her eyebrows at him, and moved her lips out to pout at him. He wouldn't be phased. Draco and Blaise sat at the bar talking to Mathelda, but Hermione's mind was somewhere else, as she unconsciously sipped her water, running her lips along the edge of the glass.

It was on a couple. Dancing in the middle of the floor, moving gracefully to the music. Both of them with that look in their eyes. A look Hermione loathed, because she had no one that would look at her like that.

(LISTEN TO THE SONG NOW!!- on repeat if you have to- until the end of this chapter)

Then all at once, the music changed, and Hermione found herself walking around to the edge of one of the tables in between the dance floor. Couples twirled around the middle of the bar, holding each other in a warm, desirable embrace. That's when it happened. A mysterious man grabbed her waist and hugged her tightly to his chest, forcing her hips to move sensually to the music. Hermione knew the smell that radiated off of this mans body, in waves. She knew exactly who it was, and wouldn't, for one second, believe otherwise.

Draco moved his hands around to the front of Hermione, spinning her around to face him as her breath hitched in her throat. Draco's hands roamed over Hermione's exposed skin. His nails sinking in to her lower back, as his other hand rested on her neck, ready to pull her into a long, passionate kiss. The atmosphere fogged around them, and all Hermione could focus on was Draco holding her close to his chest, rocking their hips back and forth. Hermione's lips grazed his as he captured her mouth with his. It was heated, and Hermione could feel the beads of sweat cascading down her bare neck. Draco licked the bottom of Hermione's lips as she slithered her arms around Draco's neck. She thrust her hips into his again, causing him to moan against her mouth. Draco parted away from her, leaving her hungry for more of him. He spun her around swiftly, as she twirled like a tiny ballerina under his arms, he followed her, bringing her close to his warm, smooth chest once again. Hermione's breasts pushed up against the thin material separating her from Draco, and she longed for the contact.

Draco pulled Hermione into him once again, holding her tiny hand to his body, as she ran her right leg up and down the outside of his own. Draco clutched Hermione's bottom firmly, causing her to groan with pleasure. Their erotic dance moves brought both of them closer and closer to insanity, and Draco couldn't take it anymore. He Grabbed Hermione's back, pulling her chest into his. As their bodies crashed into one another, he tipped her over, letting her back arc as he trailed down her neck with lust filled kisses. With the contact to her exposed chest, Draco's mouth tried more and more to devour every inch of her he could, as he spun Hermione back upwards to smash his lips into hers once more.

Mathelda had stopped pouring drinks, as she looked at Draco and Hermione, with her mouth gaping wide open. Blaise looked smugly at the too, only to realise that he had been right about them, in his mind, all along. Couples parted off the bar floor to watch the two in their dance. It meant so much more to Hermione and Draco and the people standing around, witnessing could tell. It was a declaration of feelings. Of want, of passion, of lust, and pleasure and love and friendship. It was all there, clear as day, for any one too see.

Draco spun Hermione one more time around his hand, as she drifted back into his arms. He held her in his chest, and ran his warm hands up her back, to toy with the hair below her neck, as he dipped her body again, sending her leg to automatically hitch itself around his hip. Hermione's lungs pleaded for air as Draco ran a long hand down her back to her thigh, dragging his nails along the sensitive flesh.

Draco pulled Hermione up to face him, bringing her chest close into his. "Let's get out of here," She whispered gently, as she bit playfully on the edge of his ear. Draco groaned in pleasure again, as he pulled Hermione away from him, and walked to the edge of the bar.

"Blaise. We're leaving." Draco said huskily. Blaise smiled brightly to Mathelda.

"Alright, you kids be safe," He pleaded, harmlessly. Draco growled as he pulled Hermione out of the bar into the parking lot.

"Can we please apparate?" Hermione linked her arms tight around Draco's biceps. "I can't stand the drive home," she whispered into Draco's chest.

Draco looked around and nodded in agreement, and with a loud "CRACK!" they were both gone, stumbling into Hermione's house.

Draco caught her from behind and made a trial of kisses up along her back, to her neck. His cool breath making Hermione's spine tingle with pleasure.

Hermione spun around to face him, the very core of her burning with hunger and lust. Draco's lips plunged into hers and sent her toppling over, backwards, until Draco caught her with one hand, and picked her up, hitching, her legs around his waist. Hermione squealed and kissed him passionately, her tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. She felt his sweet breath against her swollen, red lips, as her tongue glided gracefully over his lower lip, and into his moist mouth. The heat was to hard to control, the passion to difficult to endure without feeling the distinct need to ravish each other right there on Hermione's kitchen table.

Draco walked them both through dining area and the living room, pinning Hermione to the wall occasionally, to kiss her deeply. Draco wandered up the small set of stairs, to Hermione's bedroom, waving his hand at a group of candles lining her wall. Each one ignited, giving the room a frosted orange glow, and sending the temperature to soaring new heights.

Draco leaned down on top of the bed, Hermione's legs still hitched around his waist. They fought each other in her small duvet, urging the other to kiss the other longer, or harder. Hermione's nails dug into Draco's bare back, as he pulled her tank top over her head, revealing her chest heaving up and down, her lungs hungry for breath. Hermione rolled over, on top of Draco, her legs straddling his waist. She looked down at Draco, sitting up straight. Her breasts practically spilling over the top of her bra, as her lungs screamed for air. Draco's grew more and more impatient, as his hunger over took him. Hermione rested her hands on his shoulders as she leaned in for one, small kiss. Hermione sat up again, running her hands along Draco's bare chest. He rolled them both over, so that now he laid on top of Hermione. Draco twisted her around on her back, resting his entire body on top of Hermione's back side. She breathed in sharply, as Draco leaned over her beside her ear, dragging his body along her back.

"Now that you're part of The Army, you need your tattoo." Draco whispered, roughly into her ear. Hermione leaned her head back into her pillows, arching her back slightly, allowing Draco to trace his wand along her bare skin.

Hermione gasped in pain and pleasure, as the brand burned itself into her back. A large dark skull embedded itself across Hermione's perfect flesh. Draco trialed his tongue down her neck, shoulders as he flipped her over and swung her dark bra off of her chest in one swift motion. Draco lowered his mouth to the mounds of flesh, as he sucked gingerly on her skin, embracing the taste of her skin as his tongue flicked across every inch of her body. Hermione moaned as she clutched the blankets on her bed tight enough her knuckles turned a paler shade of white. Her back arced in pleasure, as Draco thrust her hips down into her soft mattress. He pulled her small skirt off of her frame and sent it spiraling to the floor.

"Now that's not entirely fair," Hermione whispered, as she pulled Draco's black pants off his waist, so that they lay pooling around his ankles. Hermione kicked the offending material off of the bed, as he sent more and more kisses over her vulnerable skin. The contact made Hermione's head fling backwards as she groaned with satisfaction. The rest of their clothes made their way around Hermione's room after being flung impatiently from their bodies. Draco looked at Hermione's raw exposure and licked his lips as he plunged into her neck, sucking heartily at her skin. Hermione's bare hips smashed into his, forcing Draco to emit a low growl from his thick lips. Draco planted himself above Hermione, and saw her nod of approval, before he entered her.

Hermione's head tilted back involuntarily, as she ran her fingers along Draco's arms. His thrusts began slowly, as he rocked his body in rhythm to Hermione's. The look of pure, undiluted lust had evaporated from Draco's eyes, and was replaced with something quite genuine. The same look he had given her when he refused her house to be The Army's new headquarters. A sincere and indisputable look of affection and protectiveness glossed over in his shiny grey eyes. The thrusts were never quickened or hurried. They were slow, and deep, and sensual. Hermione's back bowed with every move he made, and they soon found themselves begging for release. Draco, of course, did not give in so easily. He continued to move intensely inside Hermione, as her teeth and nails scraped across his skin, leaving trails of red, sensitive flesh in their wake.

Hermione brought her head up to Draco's chest and released a muffled moan, continuously panting for more breath as it quickly seeped out of her lungs and into the thick atmosphere around them.

This was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was as if his entire being fit around her. Every curve, every dip was fulfilled and composed to match the others body. Hermione felt it completely. Like two halves to a whole, Draco and Hermione's body's contoured one another's.

Hermione could feel herself quickly loosing ground. Her breathing shortened and became dangerously close to ceasing altogether, when Draco lurched forward one final thrust, sending them both over the edge. Hermione's sweat covered body dropped back down to the bed. Thick pieces of long brown hair matted across her face, as she gasped for air. Draco kissed her mouth, dragging his body along hers, as she backed away from him for inhalation. Draco ran his hands along her stomach before collapsing on the bed next to her, gasping just as violently.

Hermione took one last breath before curling herself up next to Draco. She wasn't sure it he would welcome it or not. If maybe, by chance, Hermione had just been another one of the many woman he had conquered. She had been certain, but she had thought that the look in his eyes had given it away. That he had wanted this with her as much as she had wanted this with him. Perhaps it had been different for Draco. Hermione would want the sexual relationship along with all the other things it would entail. She had, after all, been with Weasley for four long years. She was into that kind of thing. Draco was most surely, not. But he snaked his arm around Hermione's back anyways, rubbed her shoulder with one hand, and gently traced the patterns of the dark skull with the other.

Of course it was only temporary. The skull would begin to face in a month or two. But for now, this tattoo bound her to The Army. Even if only temporarily, Hermione was as much a part of this 'brotherhood' as Draco was. And even if it was only to provide headquarters for their meetings, Hermione could learn to deal with no longer being on the frontlines. Draco knew how badly she had wanted everything to be over. She would join whatever light side there was in order to bring the dark side down.

No matter what.

Draco continued to trace the patterns of the skull with his fingers as Hermione drifted off to a comfortable sleep. This time, she wasn't thinking of Ron or Harry or Ginny or the Weasley's. She wasn't thinking at all. For once in Hermione Granger's life, she was perfectly content with being. She was, much to her disbelief, fully comfortable with taking in her feelings toward what had just conspired, and letting them wash over her in a wave of refreshing new possibilities.

Yes, Hermione Granger was now, fully satisfied, with Draco Malfoy's arms entwined around her small, naked body.

A/N: This might seem a little rough, but I wanted to get it up here for you guys to read. I'm really not sure how many people read it, but I have fun writing it. I don't know, I've kind of been in a weird mood lately. This song kind of describes it… So I hope you enjoyed reading! You can review if you want to, personally, I would like it very much if you would, but if you don't that's understandable as well.


	10. Wishful Thinker

Thanks to **vampirelover2007 **and **X-miss black-X- **for your reviews!! YOU GUYS ROCK!!(:

There's no song for this chapter, only because it's short and somewhat pointless.

I also wanted to ask you guys a favor, and wondered if you could review this and tell me whether or not you listen to the songs while your read; and if you do, tell me if you enjoy them!!(: That's all I ask.

By the way, I really hope you guys don't hate me for this… You're going to have to read to find out what I'm talking about…. (I know it's short, but It's kind of like a tiny chapter that had to be written so it could help explain things later on in the story)

Ch 10 (Wishful thinking)

_Three weeks later…_

Draco and Blaise had spent the past three weeks getting ready for the members of The Army to show up, winded, and very much so- angry, at Hermione's front door step. They had both readied the newest member of the coven for the expected 'holier than thou' attitudes, and cries of displeasure the later Slytherin's would surely have taken on. But Hermione had assured both Draco and Blaise that she was more than ready to deal with her old classmates. Although Hermione was tired and the throbbing pain, deep in her neck never ceased to falter, Hermione could honestly say she was looking forward to the meeting. Even though Draco had said that she wouldn't be able to participate as much as she had hoped.

The past two weeks were hard to endure. With Hermione's constant complaining, and her and Draco's incessant bickering, the atmosphere almost became too difficult to bare. It was in the third week that things finally slowed down, and returned to normalcy. Hermione stopped complaining, and had pretty much discontinued talking altogether. Draco had assumed it had something to do with it all becoming to much, because he too, felt that way. Draco had to admit, it was nice when the two weren't fighting.

The meeting was something all three could agree, was going to be worth it. Hermione was verbally more and more enthralled, everyday. Although, her face had detected no such emotion.

Draco and Blaise continued to straighten up as much as they could while Hermione rewarded herself with a long, hot shower. Quickly peeling off her clothes; that seemed to be rather large now a days, Hermione stepped into the shower. The water pulsed through, overhead, drenching her wild locks and matting them to her pale, sunk-in face. The steam welled up inside of the small bathroom, causing Hermione to strain for fresh breath. The pain in her neck shot through her back and Hermione unconsciously gripped the handle to her shower door.

Too much.

The pain enveloped her in a cloud of velvety fog. She was frozen in place. One wrong move and Hermione would go rigid in a rush of undisrupted and intense pain. Her head throbbed, her muscles contracted. Darkness had swallowed her whole. And as fast at it had come, the awfully unpleasant pain ceased all together, flooding out of her fragile body, and was immediately replaced by pure, undiluted blackness.

Draco couldn't help but sense something was wrong. "What hadn't gone wrong in the past few weeks?" He often found himself questioning. Hermione and Draco fought incessantly, every single day the week after they had slept together. Draco knew that she was smart, but he had never known her to be so full of wisdom; that of which was way beyond her years. He also never knew her to be so bloody stubborn and passionate as she often appeared in his presence. It made arguing with her all the more exhausting to him.

But in that past week, Hermione changed. She stopped eating, she stopped arguing with him, she complained of constantly being in pain. And, much to his surprise, Draco was scared for her. He had never seen Hermione look so fragile, and weak than she had appeared lately. It absolutely terrified him to think that maybe something was indeed wrong with her. But with thinking that, Draco immediately found reason to believe that Hermione would be fine, and that her sudden change in character was a mere figment of his overactive imagination.

Within the past few days, Hermione locked herself in her room, and only came out when she had to listen to the two slytherin boys (currently living in her only guest bedroom), and to cook . She never spoke, nor did she clean, or even _look _at Draco. She existed. And it seemed to both Draco and Blaise that it was surprisingly enough for her. She only lived to breathe, lately. That was not the Hermione Draco had known back at school. Whenever he had insinuated a fight on purpose, which was often now, she merely agreed with his obscene, and inconclusive point and walked, alone, to her bedroom, promptly slamming the door in her wake.

Thinking of all these new characteristics of Hermione Granger, was what had driven Draco to check on Hermione while she showered. His mind was securely focused on the safety of his old classmate, and nothing more.

Draco quickly opened the door, which had been unlocked, and closed it behind him. He heard no noise, nor was there even a slight indication of _any_ person showering in that bathroom, let alone a loud mouth, hot headed, Hermione Granger, who he knew for a fact both talked to herself, and sang loudly in the shower. Draco lifted the bright blue curtain shielding the bathtub, revealing Hermione Granger, shriveled up on the floor of her shower, clutching her knees to her bare chest. Water trickling off her thick, black eyelashes and onto her flushed face. She was gone. Passed out, stone cold, on the floor of her shower.

Immediately, Draco panicked. He could care less what she would say to him when she woke; it most likely would be something along the lines of 'I can't believe you came in to look at me showering!' Draco had also guessed her cheeks would turn a bright shade of scarlet upon shouting this at him. But now, all the color was drained from her cheeks. Her eyelids were protruding out of her bony face, and her lips seemed a pale shade of purple.

Draco turned off the water in a frenzy, and before anymore feelings could swallow his train of thought, he lifted Hermione out of the tub, and tried to shudder her awake.

"Hermione, Hermione." Draco shook her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open, only momentarily before falling shut again, on their own impulse. "Hermione, wake up." Draco held her face in his hands, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Hermione stirred awake, reaching up to grab Draco's hand. He sighed in relief, peeling pieces of her long, sodden hair away from her face. Hermione leaned her head forward and shook it back and forth, before shutting her eyes and wincing in pain. Draco held a towel around her folded frame, and helped her up out of the bathtub. She quickly followed his lead, out of the shower, wobbling a bit as she stood. Draco looked down at her, her eyes involuntarily shutting out the light from the overhead bulb, and scooped her weak body up into his arms.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, as he walked both of them into her room. She said nothing about him 'checking in' on her, in the shower, but instead, tucked her head deep into Draco's warm, solid chest. The blackness threatened to overtake her again, but Hermione refused by opening her eyes, and surrounding herself with light.

Draco shut her bedroom door behind them, placing Hermione gently on the bed. She barely had time to notice what he had been rummaging through her drawers for, before she felt Draco's careful hands, sliding on her undergarments. Hermione would have normally objected, had she not been so incredibly tired. She leaned upwards, so that Draco could pull her tiny tank top over her head. He stopped and cupped her small face in his hands, worry plagued his polished, silvery green eyes. Draco lifted Hermione off the bed, pulling her hand to rest on his shoulder, as he slipped on a pair of her pajama pants.

"Hermione?" Draco asked. She merely looked down at him. She was so weak it was unnerving.

"Hmmm?" She sat back down on top of her bed, patting the spot next to her for Draco.

"What have you eaten today?" Hermione sighed. She _honestly_ couldn't remember what she had eaten that day. Actually, Hermione couldn't really remember the last time she had eaten anything.

She tried to eat, but all that had ensued was it's re-appearance in her toilet, or bathroom sink.

"Nothing, really." She replied, wiping beads of sweat off her forehead. Draco looked down at her, noticing how incredibly small she looked. He felt as though it had been his fault that she ended up this way. Like he wasn't taking good enough care of her. He wasn't watching whether or not she ate. He hadn't known that she was getting sick, and he definitely hadn't noticed all the color slowly drain away from her face. All he noticed was her lack of Hermione-ness. He missed it more than he would care to admit.

"Alright, well we need you to eat some food. I'm canceling the meeting tonight, and don't try to argue with me, cause you'll only loose." Draco slipped his hand over Hermione's and she pulled back, shaking her head in agreement.

"I'm really hot." Draco looked at Hermione thoroughly before replying. A small smirk, dragging itself along his pale cheek.

"Yeah, I won't disagree there." Hermione smiled, only slightly, and swallowed hard, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over her long, dark lashes.

"No, I mean, I'm really hot. I feel like I can't breathe." Draco's brow furrowed as he took Hermione's scrunchy off the end of her bedpost, and tied her hair up, away from her face, high above her head.

"Alright, lean back in bed. You're not getting up for anything tonight." Hermione didn't argue. She simply did as she was told and rolled her shirt up past her stomach so that she lay in only her bra and pajama pants. Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered a small cooling charm over her body. Hermione groaned and held tightly to her quilted duvet. A small hint of color stained her cheeks, but was immediately drained from her face, as the cooling charm evaporated. "Hermione." Draco whispered. "I think we need to take you to St. Mungo's." Hermione nodded her head, back and forth, wildly.

"No, I'll be fine. I just need you to stay here with me." Draco shook his head at Hermione.

"No, we need to take you to the hospital. You look awful." In his mind, Draco had already noted that this could not possibly be the flu. Nor a cold of any kind. Hermione was truly sick, and she needed to be apparated to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. Draco knew she wouldn't allow it, but persisted in arguing with Hermione, for him to take her there.

"Just get me some water, and a cold cloth, or something, Draco. I'll be fine." Hermione's eyes shut again, as she clutched her comforter, clearly in pain. Draco nodded his head, and kissed her cheek, before leaving her room.

"What's wrong with her?' Blaise wondered aloud, as Draco pulled the cold cloth out from underneath the tap. "She didn't look so great." Draco nodded again, still slightly upset that Hermione insisted on staying home rather than going to the hospital.

"Yeah, she's really sick, and she won't let me take her to St. Mungo's or cancel the meeting." Blaise raised his eyebrows suspiciously, and turned back to the television. I'm going to stay with her until everyone starts to show up. Hopefully she eats this and can get some sleep." Blaise shook his head in agreement, as Draco shuffled into Hermione's room with a cold cloth, a glass of water, and a packet of crackers. She groaned loudly at the sight of the food,

"Oh, could you just forget trying to feed me, it's not going to work." Hermione sighed. "I haven't been able to keep anything down this past week."

"No. Either you eat here, of I take you to the hospital." Draco would not loose this fight. "Your choice." Hermione snorted and sat up, slightly, only to be pushed down by Draco's firm hands. "Just relax, alright?" Hermione sighed again, but in relief. "Try and get some sleep tonight."

Draco silently wondered how long she had been sick, but didn't bother asking. He figured it had been just these past two or three weeks. He wondered how bad it had been, and how much worse it could have gotten before she had told him. Or before she had apparated herself to the hospital. He assumed she would never let him take her. That was, after all, her true nature. Always believing she could take care of herself. Even if she truly knew, deep down, that she needed help.

Xoxo--

Hermione shuffled out of her room, still in her bra and pajama bottoms, into her kitchen, to grab another glass of water. Heat had overturned her bieng, and beads of cold sweat coated her body as she slept. Every member of The Army turned to look at her in her revealing outfit, before Hermione could realise that she was not the only one present in her kitchen, and cover herself up.

"Sweet Merlin!" She screamed as she lay her eyes upon the full spectrum of Army Members seated at her kitchen table. Hermione's body wavered slightly, as she perched her tiny white fists, over the counter.

Draco walked up to her, resting a long finger under her chin, and pulling her face up to his. "Hermione, this is The Army." Draco didn't take the time to introduce every single one of the members, for fear that it would make her head spin even more. "Why don't we get you to bed?" Draco suggested. Hermione clutched her cup of water, tightly in one hand, and held herself steady with the other.

"I think I'm perfectly capable of-"

The kitchen spun around her. The members faces twirled around in her mind, a few sole images of them swimming around in her brain. Hermione's hand slipped off the sink, sending her body crashing down to her hard, marble floor. The lights overhead flashed brilliantly, and in an instant they were gone. Every single light was gone, and Hermione was finally enveloped in another blazing explosion of darkness.

One which lasted all the way to St. Mungo's.

A/N: I know this is short, but it just helps to hold the story together. Bare with me. (: Review and tell me about the songs and such!! I'll make sure to reply or thank you in my next chapter. A lot of you guys have been faithful reviewers and I don't think you know how much I appreciate it!!(:

Till next time,

Stellarxmystery.


	11. The Things We Do Just To Stay Alive

A/N: Sorry this took so long… Song is- technically not a song!! Lol, Just go and download "thunderstorm" they'll mostly be entitled "sleep relaxation," or "sounds of nature," But make sure you're listening to rain/thunderstorm when it says to(: READ AND REVIEW?! It would be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a brilliant writer. Her name was J.K Rowling…. One day, J.K Rowling decided that her work was SO AMAZING that she made everyone sign a disclaimer, so that she felt better about people stealing her characters. Tada! Disclaimer!

Chapter 11. (The things we do just to stay alive)

Draco wrapped his arms tightly around the small woman, placating his presence. His fingers grazed her hips, as he pulled her inside the small house, shutting the door behind him.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Blaise called out form the front room, as he ran up to Hermione, giving her a bone-crushing hug. All the while, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

"Easy now, Zabini," spat Draco.

"Oh man, I can't believe it! We were all so worried about you, and then when we got the call from Draco saying that you were-" Blaise fused his lips together, as he set his eyes upon Draco's death glare. Hermione moaned loudly and waltzed into her room, leaving behind both boys.

"Sorry, mate, I didn't know it was that bad," Blaise murmured, before clearing the space in the refrigerator, clean. Draco shook his head, and sat down in one of the hard, wooden kitchen chairs.

"No big deal,' Draco sighed. "But she won't talk to me about it. Says I shouldn't worry about it, and then just stops talking." Blaise lifted his well manicured eyebrow, and jut his lower lip out.

"Hmph." He harrumphed, sitting next to Draco. "Did you tell her yet?" Draco looked at Blaise with a pair of wide green eyes.

"What are you going on about, Zabini?" He gushed. Blaise only laughed before nodding his head.

"I'm not blind, and I was most definitely there that night at the bar." He smirked devilishly, and turned to look Draco straight in the eyes. "I actually had to look away a few times," He sighed. Draco laughed, uncomfortably and found himself staring at the tabletop. Blaise folded his hands together and set them below his chin. "Did you want to talk about it, mate?"

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples before turning to his best friend. "Nah," he huffed. "there's nothing to talk about. Blaise shook his head back and forth. Sometimes his friend could be too stubborn for his own good.

"Whatever you say." Draco bit his lower lip, and attempted a half smile, but soon came to the realisation that it looked more like a scowl, if anything. Blaise looked slightly taken aback, before twisting on his heel and running out to the living room to watch the telly. Draco sighed inwardly and ran his long pale fingers through his hair.

It was hard to believe that the woman in the other room… A woman he had grown up loathing, was carrying a child he helped create. With that thought, Draco wondered whether or not it was going to be a little boy or a little girl, and if he would ever get to know him. Let alone get to know the world at all. After all, Hermione still hadn't discussed with him what was going to happen. After the doctor had informed her that she was indeed with child, all Hermione could manage was sighing, scowling, or sleeping. Draco hadn't gotten to talk to her the two days she lied in the hospital, but he had stayed with her, despite her desperate attempts to send him straight back to the house, and get a good night's sleep.

Draco lifted himself out of his chair, and followed Blaise out to the living room, quickly climbing his way up the stairs, to Hermione's bedroom. He looked at Blaise who flicked two thumbs up, as he slowly knocked on the door.

Hermione slumped over her bed, throwing her back into her knotted sheets, and groaning loudly; after changing into a tank top. The cotton felt exceptional against her somewhat exposed back, and Hermione relished the feeling she had, of revisiting the food she was forced to eat in the hospital.

Her back ached, her mind raced, her stomach churned. Only because she was so nervous. It was plain to see that Draco and her had developed some sort of mutual liking towards one another. A liking that scared Hermione half to death. She was so brave and courageous, they had thought. She could handle this situation with Draco. Or so she had believed. It was much easier said than done, because every time she had thought about talking to Draco or even looking at him, she managed to run to the bathroom and retch the contents of her stomach out.

It was only normal that life would throw something this twisted, and awful her way. It was karma. She had gone on all those adventures with Harry and Ron, all the while breaking a dozen rules, and now she had to pay with it. By carrying the child she and her one true enemy had made together. Hermione did have to admit, that if she was forced to remember the night that she had conceived a child, she wouldn't have had it any other way. That night was going to be hard to forget in itself, but now, it would be even harder.

Hermione ran her hands through her long, soft hair, and twisted her fingers around the delicate duvet Molly Weasley had sewn her. It was only a matter of time she would have to make a decision. A mere two months ago, Hermione had met a new version of the Draco Malfoy she had went to school with so many years ago. A mere two months ago, she was just recovering from her break up with Ron. And a mere three weeks ago, she had created a child. One that was swimming along in her stomach, making itself right at home.

Still curled up on her bed, Hermione rested her head on her soft pillow, thinking deeply, before her eyelids fluttered closed, and her breathing became deep, and undisturbed by the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. A sharp rapture sounded at her doorway, and Hermione was startled to find a frazzled, and seemingly tired Draco Malfoy leaning against her doorframe.

"We have to talk," he sighed. Hermione rubbed her eye with the back of her small hand, motioning for Draco to sit beside her, with the other.

"This was so stupid of us," Hermione ranted, before allowing all of her pent up emotions to make an appearance down her flushed cheeks.

"I couldn't agree more," Draco stated. Hermione looked up to him, her eyes still glazed over with tears.

"What are we going to do?" she murmured quietly. Draco brought his hand up to the back of his neck, massaging the headache he knew was soon to make an annoyingly brisk entry to his sensitive skull. He sighed, and look at Hermione with eyes that expressed everything he wasn't able to communicate. Mostly, an exasperated 'I don't know.'

"You're not going to be sticking around, so I think I know exactly what I want do, I don't think I'll be able to raise a kid by myself, and I know that a baby is the last thing on your mind. The doctor told me about all my options and everything, and said that I could come back in once I made my descision, and they were really nice and I think that maybe it would be best for me, and that way I wouldn't have to…" Draco's eyes were practically sewn shut from the headache Hermione's ranting had insinuated.

"Hermione-" he cut her off. "You keep acting like it's just you that gets to make the decision." Hermione rubbed the back of her neck, very much like Draco had a few minutes prior to her speech.

"I am," she said simply. "It's my body, and I know what's best for me, and this situation has just really gotten out of hand…" she was starting to rant again, as Draco covered his ears to avoid an onslaught of pain in his head.

"Hermione!" He yelled. Hermione stopped and raised her tear stained eyes to meet his penetrating gaze. She had barely noticed the muffled sobs that escaped her lips during her tirade.

"See," she muttered. "We can barely handle each other as is." Draco furrowed his eyebrows and looked back up at Hermione. "What makes you think that we can handle a kid together?"

Draco massaged his lips in between his teeth, peeling apart the top layers of skin.

"Hermione," he started. "We may not be lovers, or friends, or hell… Even acquaintances, but I assure you." he paused. "I wouldn't take back that night for anything." Hermione sighed. She was afraid it would come to this.

The truth is, she wanted him to confess this type of thing to her, in order for her to be persuaded to keep the child that had inundated her stomach. A desperate part of her wanted him to take responsibility for that they had done, and admit that he wanted this baby. But another part of her wished she could take the easy way out, and get rid of the 'problem.'

Draco wrapped his large arms around Hermione's pixie- like figure, as she rested her head on his shoulders.

"So, as much as I hate to admit it, we have an agreement?" Draco laughed and rested his hand on top of Hermione's, squeezing gently.

"We do." Hermione sighed, taking in Draco's sure attitude.

"Go figure. We finally agree on something, and it turns out that it's whether or not to keep the baby we both made together, after one to many drinks on your part." Hermione laughed, but Draco's face fell, horror-stricken.

"Let's get one thing clear," he stated, in a frightening, business like tone. His eyes scathed Hermione's body, finally coming to rest on her wide, chocolate brown eyes. She looked scared beyond belief at the tone Draco had just taken on. "I was never drunk that night. I was very much sober, and I knew perfectly well what I was getting myself into." Hermione shook her head, to afraid to object. Whether or not he said it to reassure herself, or if he was really telling the truth, Hermione would never be certain. She was much to terrified to find out by asking him for the truth.

"Understand?" Hermione shook her head, yes, swallowing loudly. "Good," he finished. Hermione blushed, staring away from his intense gaze as he rubbed small circles in her back, still squeezing the small hand that was perched comfortably on his thigh.

Hermione followed Draco out of the room, her hand still intertwined in his, as he sat her down at the kitchen table, passing a very occupied looking Blaise Zabini, who was, at the moment, watching the telly.

As soon as they had retreated into the kitchen, Blaise followed. The remote still clutched firmly in his hands.

Draco smeared some jam on a piece of toast and pushed it towards Hermione. Her face contorted into distaste.

"Ugh! Enough thrusting don't you think that got you into enough trouble already?" Blaise huffed as he sat down next to Hermione at the kitchen table. Draco looked warningly at the man, while Hermione shook her head, suppressing her laughter.

"Eat," Draco whispered into her ear.

Blaise looked up from Draco back to Hermione. "So am I going to be an uncle or what?" Hermione choked back a piece of her toast, as she looked up to Draco, his eyes wide in surprise.

"I'm having the baby, if that's what you mean." Hermione murmured. Her cheeks turning bright crimson. Reality had just hit her.

Merlin, she was having a baby. She was going to have to tell her parents, and the other teachers from the school. There was so much to do, she doubted she could get it done in nine months.

"I'm not so hungry anymore," she mused, pushing the plate away from her. Draco shove it back in her hands, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, once again.

"Nice try. Now, eat." Hermione looked down skeptically at the toast, and hopefully up at the bathroom.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she faked. Clutching her stomach, Hermione rose out of her seat to go back to her bedroom, before being driven back into her seat by a very peeved Draco Malfoy.

"Sit down. Don't make me shove this stuff down your throat." Hermione took the threat very seriously, as she began taking bite after bite of her toast and jam. Draco sat down at the table next to her, perching his chin atop his interlaced fingers; watching Hermione. His eyes drifted towards a tiny bit of crumb that had balanced itself around the small corner of her mouth.

Pretty soon it was going to be hard to ignore her, and the child she housed. It was hard enough as it is, now, without looking at her and remembering that his son or daughter was inside of her. Draco thought back to the conversation they had held in her bedroom only moments before. He was very glad with their decision, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Here," Draco mumbled before wiping off the corner of her mouth with his sleeve. Hermione blushed, and looked down at the table, continuing to eat her toast in silence in silence.

"Ugh." Balise groaned as he sat up from the table and left to go watch a smidge more of the telly. It was hard enough to admit that he had liked this muggle contraption without hearing the wrath of Hermione. Blaise knew he had heard her informative sermon on muggle appliances more than enough times to know how non-wizards had contributed to the world, too. He was just grateful to have the television. Especially when Draco and Hermione were being so gross. Blaise thought quietly to himself, 'maybe Draco had gone soft.

Draco couldn't help but wonder the same thing. Sitting at the table, staring at a girl he had considered absolutely, undeniably beautiful. He thought about how much he wanted to hold her in his arms, but more so how much he wanted to shag the living daylight out of her. Even with her messy hair and plaid pajama pants, that were ten times to big for her. He, dare he say it, loved her even more for it.

Draco even thought about his child. How hard it would be to be a parent at the ripe old age of twenty. How, in America, he couldn't even drink, but he was ready to throw his life away for a one night stand, that resulted in some serious repercussions. But even though he had forced himself to think like that, Draco still couldn't stop himself from picturing Hermione in the hospital with that goo all over her swollen belly, and the fact that eventually they would have to pick out names together. They would actually have to agree on something. Right, as if that could happen.

The only thing they had ever agreed to was sleeping together, and keeping this baby.

A baby. He was going to have a baby with Hermione Granger, and that's all he could think about.

Draco had expected that she was thinking along the same lines as his, because her hand unconsciously drifted down to her belly, and began rotating around in small circles. She looked as though she was going to burst into heavy sobs at any given moment.

"It's going to be alright, you know," Draco whispered. Hermione didn't shift her gaze from the table she had been staring at. She simply nodded, and wiped away a stray tear away from her cheek.

"How can I believe you," Hermione cried, quietly. "All we've ever done is fight. How am I supposed to believe that you'll stick around to raise a kid?" Draco shook his head. He hadn't left a good impression on Hermione throughout school, but he thought that maybe these past few weeks were a different story. He couldn't blame her for being skeptical, but he really wished she could just learn to trust him.

He wasn't going to leave her.

Draco knew that he could have told her that, but he doubted she would have believed him anyways. Even if he was sincere. But Draco believed it with all his heart. And he promised, right then and there, that he would never leave this child, let alone it's mother.

He knew what it was like growing up in a horrid family, and he wouldn't wish that on anyone. And when his father died, Draco knew how hard it was for his mother to raise him, and convince him to make a better person of himself. He wouldn't wish that kind of stress on Hermione, either.

**(It's raining**!!** i.e cue the sound effects) lol**

Draco was sucked back to reality by the sound of Hermione's chair scraping the floor, as she hurried out of the kitchen, with Draco close on her heel.

"Where are you going?" He spat, as he leaned casually against a wall. There was that _almost_ permanent scowl plastered across his face.

Hermione remembered it from school, and instantly regretted the night that she had made love to this man.

"I need to get out of here," She replied simply. And with that, Hermione turned on the spot, and walked out the front door, promptly slamming it shut on the way out.

She had had absolutely no idea where she was going to go before, but Hermione had a fair idea now. She couldn't talk to Ron, and she couldn't talk to Ginny. This made things so much harder on Hermione. The fact that the only person that she could talk to was the man who gotten her in this predicament in the first place, made her angry beyond words.

The only other place left to go, was to see her best friend.

He wouldn't judge her, or give her some lame advice. He would listen, and be there for her, because she needed him. That was his nature, and Hermione missed it terribly.

Hermione walked very slowly through the grounds, passing way to many names she was familiar with.

The headstone wasn't incredibly flattering, but Harry had wanted it this way. He was so fed up with his name gracing the cover of the daily prophet that all he ever wanted to be, was simply; the-boy-who-lived-in-peace.

Hermione knelt beside the headstone, bowing her head, as she inhaled a gracious amount of air. She held it in her lungs until it burned, and then she had let go of everything she had been holding onto the past two days, and bawled like no one was watching.

In reality, no one _had_ been there before Hermione apparrated, but Hermione hadn't seen the young woman who casually stalked about in the shadows. Her eyes locked on the back of Hermione, as she sobbed every single ounce of water out of her body.

"I… I, can't…" Hermione stammered, holding on to the headstone, tears stinging her eyes. Her face was red and swollen, but even then she didn't care, because she was finally facing the fact that the one friend she would have had to talk to about everything that was happening with her, was really gone.

And he was never coming back.

Hermione gasped for air. "I… I hate you!" Hermione sobbed. The young girl in the corner of the cemetery clasped her hand to her mouth as tears stung her own face. The pity she had felt for this girl, even when she should rightfully hate her, consumed her entirely.

She knew she couldn't do that, though. Hate her, that is.

"I hate you for not sticking around, because I needed you!" She screamed. I still need you!" So sobbed even more. "You should have been here for me, to make everything better!" Hermione gasped for breath. "It's all your fault."

Hermione hadn't even noticed the rain that was falling down in torrential streams, as her tears stung her eyes shut, as if they were merged together.

The water had matted her face to her hair, as she knelt over beside the grave to catch her breath. "It's all your fault," she whispered, still crying desperately.

Hermione hadn't felt the hands on her back, pull her up, and hug her tightly. The moment spun around and twisted until Hermione felt so incredibly dizzy, she thought she would pass out again. The pair of big warm arms enveloped her in a completely familiar embrace, as Hermione looked up through this man's shirt, and straight into a pile of sodden blond locks.

Draco hugged her closer, stroking her hair and whispering gently to her, lulling her in hopes she would calm down.

"Shh, Hermione it's okay," he sighed.

"No it's not! He should have been here!" She cried. Hermione lifted her head to face Draco and look him square in the eye. Her big brown eyes full of salty tears. "I have no one, Draco," She bawled.

The girl in the cemetery sighed and put her fingers to her temple.

She really did have no one.

The woman moved her long, straight hair away from her face, and placed her small white hands into a pair of gloves. As suddenly as she had come, she fleeted the cemetery, looking over her should once at the girl who stood by a very well known grave.

(A/N: I wanted to end it here, but who am I kidding?)

Draco pulled Hermione back to the house by means of side-along apparation. Draco still held her close to his chest. Her sobs and sniffles, muffled by his shirt.

"I… Miss him… So. Much." She sobbed. Draco continued to stroke her hair, as his other palm rubbed circles into her back, once again.

"I know," he whispered. "I know." Hermione shook herself of his hold, and ran up to the door, out of the rain. Now she was gasping for breath. Like all the tears had been sprung from her body, and she had nothing left to cry.

"I miss Ginny,' She sighed, hiccuping in the process of her exhale. Draco nodded. "And I miss the Weasley's."

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her palm. She looked so innocent. Like a child, and it broke Draco's heart to see her like this. He had almost said something like 'why?' but stopped himself, because he knew that this wasn't the time to be arrogant, or rude.

He had gone soft. And he had absolutely no problem with it.

"I miss Ron, too." Hermione finally gasped.

This took Draco by surprise. He had known that Hermione and Ron dated for a long while, but hadn't expected her to list him off in her group of 'missed individuals.' Draco looked suspicious.

"I miss all three of us. Me, Harry and Ron, talking and laughing and going off on our crazy adventures."

Draco almost added 'And basically getting yourselves killed by angry death eaters in the process,' But he figured it still wasn't the right time for his pompous remarks.

"I miss my friends, and I feel like I can't do this without them." Draco looked down at the girl, who took it upon herself to shrink under his large arms, and wrap her own arms around his waist. She looked so helpless, and so lonely. He wondered if he would ever be able to provide her with the love and support she needs.

Who was he kidding? She needed The-boy-who-lived-to-annoy, and the Weasel. He couldn't come close to giving her what she needs. Even with his child in her belly.

Hermione stalked up the front porch, into the house, and straight to the couch. She rested her head against the back of the loveseat, and grabbed the remote from Blaise.

"Goodness, mate, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Hermione ignored him, as she looked up at Draco who came waltzing in behind her. "And why are you soaking wet?" Hermione looked down at her clothes, and then back up to Draco, wiping away any traces of tears in her eyes.

"I should probably go change then, huh?" Draco shook his head, and took the seat next to her on the couch. Hermione ran upstairs, and stripped out of her soaking wet clothes. They could have been that wet from her crying, that's how much that did for her. Hermione began dressing in a pair of thick flannel pajama bottoms and a tight cotton spaghetti strap, tank top she was sure Draco would appreciate.

Wait, what was she thinking?

Hermione walked quietly out of her room, stalling anymore gasps for breath and sat next to Draco on the couch. All three argued harmlessly over channels on the television. Hermione set her mind on a sitcom because she needed it to help lift her sprits, Draco had his eye on an action film, and Blaise on an x-rated channel.

Go figure.

Hermione heard to doorbell sound over the bickering, and rose to answer the door.

"I'll get it." Draco pushed Hermione back on the couch, gently, and walked to the door, straightening out his pants as he stood.

"Blaise give me the remote!" He heard Hermione scream, as Blaise darted past her into the kitchen. "Zabini! I will hex you in such a way that you won't be able to recognise yourself when I'm through with you!"

Draco opened the door, baring a wide grin, but upon the site of the guest, felt it melt from his face, like hot wax.

"Hello Malfoy," She said half-heartedly. There was no way. It couldn't be her. This was impossible.

"Hermione, I think you're going to want to see this."

Draco stepped away from the door, to reveal a small girl barricading the doorway.

"Hello Hermione," She whispered. Her eyes fell to the concrete porch in an almost ashamed manner.

Hermione gulped loudly, and was panting from chasing Blaise, when her eyes fell upon the girl. She immediately straightened her clothes out, and attempted to manage a small smile. Her attempts failed horrendously.

She was too astonished at the sight of girl who had just rang her doorbell. Hermione attempted to handle words, but it was as if all of her knowledge of English, the muggle subject she excelled at, had been extracted form her brain.

For she was so shocked, all Hermione could manage to mutter to the girl standing in her doorway was a brainless new impression, as she exhaled her name, her eyes beaming brightly.

"Ginny?"

A/N: I know that was a really crappy place to end, but I felt like getting this out there, and then the rest later. I, unlike so many others out there, don't pre write my chapters, so I'm sorry that these come out a little late. But hey, I'm faster than some people. Thank god I don't have a beta… Whatever that is. Lol!


	12. All Second Chances

A/N: song is "I put a spell on you" By: Marilyn Manson

There's a poll up in my profile about the sex of Hermione's baby. I had originally thought of it on my own, but I wanted to see what everyone else thought.

Special thanks to **dracoshott28**, **reimihara21 **(go check out the poll!), and **dnkmmw**

**IMPORTANT A/N:** I am SOOOO SORRY that this is up so late. I had to read breaking dawn, and I had no idea what to write for this chapter (to tell you the truth) So, again, I'm SORRY!!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. Although I wish I owned Draco Malfoy, if you know what I'm saying (;

Did you guys know that Diagon Alley, put together, is diagonally. Aahahahah. Wow, I need a life. I bet you all knew that, too.

Ch. 12 (Second Chances)

Hermione brought both her hands to her face, to rub at her eyes. Surely, she was dreaming. Ginny Weasley couldn't possibly be standing in her doorway. This was all to unreal. Hermione was positive that Ginny had stopped talking to her because of her and Ron breaking up. But much to her surprise, the red-headed sister of her ex-boyfriend was standing, unsure of herself, at Hermione's front door step.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, attempting to catch her breath.

"I saw you…" Ginny paused, fingering her tiny white gloves. "At the cemetery." Hermione shook her head, but looked down in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see how you're doing, and," She stopped.

"If you saw her at the cemetery, I'm sure you know exactly how she's doing," Draco sneered.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I meant to floo you, or something." Draco laughed, and rested his hand on the door, leaning down towards Hermione's ear in the process.

"You want me to handle this?" He asked quietly. Ginny furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up hopefully at Hermione.

"Draco, you can go inside. I need to talk to Gin." Draco shook his head, smiling slightly at Hermione before sending one last sickened look toward Ginny as he retreated inside, and back on to the couch.

"Hermione, I'm so-"

"Don't apologize Gin." She murmured. "He was your brother." Ginny shook her head adamantly.

"That's no excuse. You're my best friend, and I should have been here for you." She cried. "I can't believe I was so selfish as to forget about you, and how you must be feeling!" Hermione bit her lip, and opened the door wider.

"Come inside?"

Ginny stepped over the threshold, her eyes immediately fell upon the two Slytherin boys, and she shot Hermione a worried glance.

"They're fine," she whispered. Hermione turned around to lead Ginny into her house, when she heard a loud gasp.

"Hermione! What's on your back?" Ginny exclaimed. Hermione's hand wandered aimlessly down her tank top, resting in between her shoulder blades. The tattoo. Draco and Blaise snickered from inside the living room, and Hermione turned to face a very bewildered Ginny.

"Er, It's just a… tattoo, Ginny." Hermione reasoned. Ginny ignored it and walked determinedly to Hermione's kitchen, plopping down into a chair, and resting her forehead in her hands.

"I can't believe I haven't talked to you in months." She sighed. "MONTHS!"

"Ginny, calm down, it's alright." Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's back, and began rubbing circles into her pale, freckled skin.

"NO! It's not alright! _Obviously, _I missed a lot." She whispered, shifting her gaze over towards Draco and Blaise, who were currently fighting over the right to the remote control. Hermione laughed a little, and turned to her confused friend.

"Ginny, it really is alright. I'm just glad you're here now."

Ginny sighed, and looked up into Hermione's molten brown eyes. "I've really missed you Hermione." Ginny stated. "So does mom.

And Ron."

Hermione's eyes grew wide in surprise, and she felt her heart beating erratically underneath her thin cotton tank top. Was that why Ginny was here? For her brother? To tell me that he misses me? Hermione was rendered speechless, and continued to gawk at her best friend. Draco had heard her confession as well, and found himself wandering up to the kitchen, leaving Blaise in control of the remote.

"Is that why you came here?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"No! Of course not!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione shook her head, still unable to believe it. "We're over Gin." She sighed. Ginny agreed.

"I know. "

Draco backed out of the doorway, and returned to the living room, still trying to eavesdrop on Ginny and Hermione's conversation.

"Let it go, mate," Blaise heaved. "She's not interested in the bloke anymore." Draco scoffed.

"I know," Draco stated, matter-of-factly. Blaise only laughed, and flicked through more channels on the television. Never settling on just one for to long.

"So, how exactly have you been?" Ginny asked. Hermione sighed, and rubbed her temples with her small fingers.

"Fine, I guess," She replied.

Ginny didn't rush her, like she would have normally. She realised that it would take more than one day for Hermione to fully accept her apologies.

"How about you?" Hermione asked.

"Fine, I've just missed you." Hermione winced.

It had been a little over two months since she had last seen Ginny. Someone who she had shared everything with. She was her best friend and they had gone two whole months without so much as one word spoken between the two of them. And Hermione only recently discovered… It hurt Ginny as much as it hurt herself.

"I can't really stay long, Mum wants me back soon, but I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry," Hermione held up her hand to keep Ginny from apologizing more than was necessary, but Ginny continued. "I'm sorry, and I've missed you." Hermione managed a small smile, before following Ginny to the front door.

"I'll be sure to keep in touch!" She chanted, before running out to the front yard and apparrating.

Draco walked up to Hermione and ran his long, warm fingers over her jaw line.

"Are you alright?" He asked, right after Ginny vanished. Hermione shook her head yes and looked down towards the floor.

"I can't believe she saw me at the cemetery." Draco pulled Hermione tight to his chest, as the tears ran down her cheeks.

"It hurt so much, and now she's back and she's sorry." Draco rubbed Hermione's back and tried to lull her out of her tears.

"It's alright Hermione," he cooed. "Shh." Hermione squeezed her arms tighter around Draco's middle and sighed heavily.

"I want to forgive her, but I can't handle her leaving again."

"She has no reason to leave, Hermione,' Draco replied. Hermione snorted and pulled away from Draco, rubbing both her hands over her stomach, slowly.

"Right," Draco remembered. "Look, Hermione, if she really is your best friend, she's going to accept that you're going to be having a baby, and she's going to be there for you." Draco sighed, and pulled Hermione to him once again. "She may not be happy, but she'll learn to live with it, just as you have." Hermione nodded into Draco's chest.

"Yes! Yes! Harder!"

Draco and Hermione twisted slowly towards the T.V. Hermione's eyes grew wide in surprise, as she tucked her head back into Draco's chest, groaning. Draco only looked at Blaise, and laughed.

"Bad timing?" He asked aloud. "Right then."

Blaise reluctantly turned the television channel to a cooking show, and set the remote down on top of the arm of the sofa. Draco walked Hermione over to the couch, sitting down beside Blaise, and pulled her into his lap. She sat there for a while, tucked underneath his strong arms, relishing the feeling of finally being safe. With Harry and Ron she had barely known what it felt like to feel secure from everything. But here, with Draco, Hermione felt protected. Even with everything going on, she didn't have to worry all the time. She was finally in perfectly safe hands.

Blaise reached for the remote on top of the arm to the sofa, when his face fell. A blank expression found it's way across his face, and he quickly turned his arm over. Hermione hadn't caught it. Then Draco's arm was hurting all of a sudden, giving off an unbearable amount of heat. He quickly raised his arm to the back of his head, and attempted to ignore it. Blaise looked gravely at Draco, and his face returned to its cool expression.

They were being summoned. Both of them.

Draco lifted Hermione from his lap, setting her down on the couch, and beckoning for Blaise to follow him.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked. Draco ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit, and tried to come up with the best excuse he could muster.

"I just need to talk to Blaise for a moment."

Hermione nodded and watched the two men retreat into the guest room, shutting the door so she could not hear. As soon as she heard the lock click, Hermione rose from her seat on the couch and leaned into the door. It was muffled, and she couldn't make out a single word. She really wished she had a pair of extendable ears. Then everything went silent. They had finally put up a silencing charm, and Hermione walked sullenly back to the couch, ready to flip through channels all the while being sure to avoid the "previous channel," button.

Draco and Blaise looked at each other warily, both acing the length of Hermione's guest bedroom.

"Well, this isn't good," Blaise murmured. Draco sighed, and spun his wand around in his hand.

"No kidding." Draco then decided that Hermione's curiosity would more than likely be beckoning her to the door to eavesdrop. "Hold on." Draco then swirled his wand about, muttering a simple silencing charm, and Blaise stopped pacing abruptly.

"I have to go," Blaise stated. "But I think that maybe you should go, as well; make them think that want back to their way of life. Seeing as how you've avoided half the meetings so far, anyways." Draco furrowed his brow as he continued to listen to Blaise's speech. "That way we have more people on the inside." Draco sighed again and rubbed his fingers over his temples.

"I don't really think that they'll welcome me back with open arms."

"You're Draco Malfoy. You could convince them that you haven't changed much and that you miss it all. Ya know," Blaise paused. "The killing and stuff." Draco snorted.

"I don't want to leave Hermione here by herself."

"Tell her to invite the she-weasel over." Draco laughed.

"Have Hermione invite read over, go to this meeting, get back in the death eaters good graces, and then come back as though nothing happened?" Blaise shook his head, yes. "I don't know if that'll work, Zabini."

Blaise laughed. "What could it hurt?"

That had obviously been a rhetorical question, because Draco doubted that Zabini had wanted him to answer "Everything." Or even with his own question. "Are you serious, Zabini?" Because that was how ridiculous Draco thought that Blaise's rhetorical question was. If Draco went to the death eaters, he doubted they would show him any mercy. There were no suspicions he had absorbed that went against them destroying him. Draco really doubted that he would make it home to Hermione, had he agreed to go and see the death eaters. He doubted they could forgive him for never joining their ranks after the first second war.

Death eaters were obliged to the dark side for life. Draco broke that rule.

Hesitantly, Draco had agreed to go to the meeting with Blaise under the pretense that not a word was to be spoken to Hermione, in regard to this gathering. Draco knew it would unravel her, and she didn't need that right now.

Of course Draco was reluctant to trust Zabini not to say anything to Hermione. He did tend to have a large mouth when it came to things of this nature. Draco wasn't sure Blaise had it in him to keep his mouth shut.

Naturally, He didn't.

Once Draco and Blaise made it outside the guest room, they spotted Hermione sitting, alone, on the couch. She had her feet tucked up underneath her body, with a blanket wrapped around her small frame. Draco really wished, at that moment, that he could just spend tonight with her. Laying together, watching the television. But he had agreed to this stupid meeting. The meeting that was more than likely going to get him killed.

"Hey, is everything alright?" She wondered aloud. Hermione tugged a small curl back with her fingers, brushing the bang upwards, out of her eye. Her chocolate brown eyes glistened innocently.

"Yeah, but me and Blaise have somewhere to be."

It wasn't unlike Hermione Granger to ask questions. Of course she was going to be curious, it was her nature. So when she got up out of her seat; her legs falling off of the couch in an ungraceful manner, it hadn't been a surprise. What she did next, was.

"Alright, have fun!" She shouted merrily. Blaise turned around to raise an eyebrow at Draco, whose face was painted in an incredulous manner.

"Don't you want to know where we're going?" He asked. Hermione raised her eyebrow, and walked up to Draco slowly. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"Why? Do you have something you're not telling me?" She wondered. Her statement seemed to be full of jest, but Draco was doubtful. Her curiosity would kill her one day.

"No, nevermind," Blaise could have slapped his stupid friend upside the head. They were going to be able to leave the house without any inquiry from Granger, had Draco not spoken up about her sudden change of character. Now, they were never going to make it to that meeting. Judging by the way Draco tried to scurry out of the house after that statement, Blaise had guessed correctly in assuming his friend was thinking the exact same thing as him.

"Where are you going, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, before they were able to prance out of the door, quietly.

"No where, Hermione, it's no big deal," Draco whispered, as he walked up to her slowly brushing the hair that rested behind her ear.

When he was that close to her, there was no way that Hermione could manage any intelligable thoughts. Normally, the only thing she could think about was how she needed to think rationally, but that never really seemed to work out all that well for her. Draco's bright green eyes bore into her eyes with such intensity that she felt compelled to back away. Draco only followed her, and rested his forehead against hers.

"We'll be right back, okay? No need to worry." He smiled his bright, flawless smile, and Hermione felt her breath hitch in her throat. Draco gently touched his perfect pink lips to Hermione's cheek, and whispered in her ear.

"Why don't you invite Ginny over, for company." Hermione nodded her head, and rested her hand on Draco's arm; his thumb moving gracefully over her cheek, in a way that could only be described as angelic. His touch sent shivers down Hermione's back, and Draco quickly backed out of the door, before she could come to her senses and protest.

Once outside, Blaise laughed as loud as he could possibly manage. "You are one evil bastard, you know that?" He was smiling ruefully, as ran to the edge of the driveway before impatiently beckoning Draco over, grabbing his arm, and apparating to the gathering.

Xoxo--

The warehouse was dark and dank, but Draco wasn't surprised. Truthfully, he believed that the death eaters could have met somewhere sunny and warm, with high hopes of not being spotted, but they still chose these types of places. Most likely because they were so intimidating.

Draco had prepared for the worst of it. He was completely ready for them to invade his mind, his privacy. There was no doubt in his mind that they were skeptical in welcoming him back among the ranks. He had betrayed them, so to speak. He never once came to their meetings, and obviously that had offended them. From the looks on their faces, they weren't very happy to see him.

Draco stood straight and still in the most graceful manner. It was the type of poise that would evoke jealousy from the most elite, and presitgious members of society. It was a mannerism he had inherited from his parents. One that said "I'm here now, what the bloody hell do you want now?" He knew that they would look to him for guidance when he finally started to come back. It was only a matter of time. After all, it was his family, with a few minor and unimportant exceptions, that made up Lord Voldemort's inner circle.

Draco could hear the undisguised gasps escaping the death eaters lips, as both he and Blaise apparated. Really? They haven't any better manners? It wasn't like this was such a shock. They had believed that sooner rather than later, Draco would show up, and beg for their forgiveness. But beg he most certainly would not.

Blaise, on the other hand, would plead if necessary. He knew exactly what the death eaters were capable of now. With their pent up anger towards the fall of the dark lord, not to mention their utter disgust towards the three teen wizards who had accomplished it, the death eaters were fixated on vengeance.

And Draco knew exactly what that had meant.

Hermione was in danger. It hadn't escaped his mind that the Weasel would be in danger too, but he didn't really give that much thought. Although, he knew that if Weasley died, Hermione would never be able to forgive herself, let alone Draco.

Draco walked confidently up to the large group of death eaters. Confident, yet his insides were quickly melting like butter. His stomach was churning, his forehead was bound to be covered in beads of sweat, and his eyes practially bulging from their sockets. He tried, to the best of his ability, to keep a cool demeanor. Blaise, who was standing beside him, was managing fairly well. The death eatears continued to eye Draco, while the rest of the looked suspiciously at Blaise.

"Zabini!" Dolohov screamed. "What is the meaning of this!" Blaise smiled and bowed to the shady man.

"Dolohov, Malfoy here is interested in joining the ranks once again." Blaise smiled a bright white smile. Draco thought that maybe he was pushing his luck here.

"And he thought now was the most convenient time so?" Dolohov snorted loudly, and was joined by a few death eaters, who continued to snicker. "Silence!" He screamed. All the death eaters promptly fell silent and waited for Anthony Dolohov to continue pressing the younger Malfoy.

"Tell me Malfoy," he spat. "Why you chose to ignore our calls the first dozen times we attempted to contact you?"

"I was dealing with my fathers estate," Draco whispered. "It's been rough, especially for my mom." Draco knew exactly how good of an actor he was. He sighed quietly and averted his gaze to the floor. One rule. You never cease to stare your opponent. But Draco knew that now, Dolohov wasn't exactly his "opponent" and that he was only acting. Fairly well, he might add.

"Ah yes, How is dear Narcissa?" Dolohov said in an uncaring manner. It hardly took a genius to figure out the utter contempt he felt towards Lady Malfoy. Dolohov was hardly fond of her.

"As well as can be expected," Draco replied kindly.

"So tell us why you are here, young Malfoy."

"I've taken care of everything at home, and I wish to be of service again." The dark wizards stationed around the warehouse looked at each other incredulously, unsure of whether or not to believe Draco. He hoped they would. Otherwise their would be no hope at all.

Draco felt his mind begin to shift, and knew that it was coming. He hurridly locked all of his memories of Hermione and The Army of the Black Skulls away in a tiny space in his mind, and allowed Dolohov to probe through his brain. Draco was truly a master of legillimancy. He had become that way with the help of his traitorous godfather, Severus Snape. He learned how to be a two-timer from the best. Once he felt the probe seeping away from his mind, he snapped his eyes opened and looked warily at Dolohov, appearing as though he had nothing to hide.

Surprisingly, Dolohov was convinced.

"He speaks the truth," He spoke aloud, earning an insurmountable amount of gasps from the death eaters. The muttering started up, followed by uproar. It wasn't shocking that he wasn't exactly considered as loyal as he once had been, but the murmurs they death eaters had provoked were simply outrageous. They spoke of how he had killed his own father after he was released from Azkaban, and how he was killing muggles for the fun of it, or how he had intended to marry one, and word spread that he had given birth to a squib and couldn't deal with the onslaught so he came here. Utterly ridiculous things.

"Silence!" Dolohov screamed. The death eaters fell silent once more.

"We are all united for one reason, and that reason stands still in all of us. We are here to bring about a change in the wizarding world." Dolohov paused to take a breath. "We are to bring about pureblood supremacy once again, and hold fast to that complex. We are better than Halfbloods, and those filthy mudbloods," Draco winced at the word. "We will be all powerful again. Just as the great Salazar Slytherin intended. Everyone nodded once, and continued to stare at Dolohov.

"With our new power we will be able to stop all muggle borns and half breeds from entering Hogwarts. We will finally own our rightful places in society as they highest form of beings in the wizarding community." Dolohov spoke with certainty, and Draco had wondered exactly how much the wizarding world had changed. He would have Blaise tell him once they got out of there. If they made it out of there.

The moments ticked by with such disdain that Draco thought that time was out to get him. Merlin had wanted him to suffer, and suffer he did. Before being admitted among the ranks, Draco had to suffer under the unruly hand of Anthony Dolohov.

"Crucio!" He yelled. Draco withered on the floor in pain, as the invisibly flames licked the inside of his skin. He was burning from the inside out. The fire consumed his with no sympathy. He could hear Blaise gasp from the other end of the room, as Dolohov laughed, mercifully.

"Tell me young Malfoy, do you pledge your alliance once more?" Draco searched for words, but he was in so much pain that he couldn't bare to speak. The words had disingrated from his memory. There was no way he would be able to talk, let alone mumble the words. "What was that? We can't hear you?" Dolohov taunted, as Draco's face twisted in pain. Dolohov lowered his wand, and Draco clutched his knees tightly, to surpress with scream he was holding in. It would only help if he appeared strong now. The truth was, he hadn't felt this type of pain since his father.

A memory he wished he would never have to relive. Yet, here he was.

The pain ceased immediately and Draco sighed in relief, still clutching his knees. "Yes!" He hollered. "I pledge my alliance to the death eater ranks." Dolohov smirked devilishly. There was no escaping it now.

He leaned to whisper into Draco's ear as he licked the side of his lobe. "I plan on seeing you soon then," And with a loud "CRACK!" he was gone; leaving Blaise and Draco in the old, dark warehouse, alone.

"I am so sorry, man," Blaise stuttered. "I didn't think-"

"It's alright Blaise, I'm fine." And he truly was.

Because he was going home.

"Let's just go back home, and rest." Blaise nodded his head and grabbed Draco's arms as they were both sucked straight though the tight, black tube, towards Hermione's house.

When they walked into the house, Hermione was washing dishes. Or rather, breaking dishes. Blaise and Draco shot each other a wary glance and walked into the house silently. No doubt Draco's spell of Hermione had broken, and she was more than a little upset.

"More than a little upset?" Hermione inquired, after hearing Draco's description of her. "I'm bloody well pissed off, incase you haven't noticed!" She screeched. Draco winced. "Where the HELL have you two been?" She asked, loudly. Hermione couldn't help but think that she sounded much to like Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny got up to leave, and walked past Blaise and Draco, smiling sympathetically at them both. Hermione had invited her over before her euphoric high ended, and they spent the entire time catching up, even though she had been there earlier that day.

"I told you, we had things we needed to do," Hermione shook her head, huffing wildly as she basically scrubbed the paint of a dainty little teacup. She was absolutely livid.

"No doubt illegal," She muttered to herself. Draco came up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulders, gently.

"Hermione, I'm sorry we're being so evasive. Now can you please calm down?" Wrong move.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN! I will not bloody well calm down, Draco Malfoy!" She screamed. Blaise covered his ears and walked into the guest bedroom murmuring something that sounded vaguely like 'stupid women,' and 'lousy couple.' Draco resented him very much for that last statement.

Draco grabbed Hermione's shoulders forcefully this time, allowing the glass teacup to slip from her hands back down into the sink, with a loud CLUNK!

"Could you just breath, Hermione? He asked calmly. Hermione's eyes widened as she breathed in an out, slowly. Then, she burst into tears. Or more like, hysterics.

"Hermione," Draco called, pulling her into his arms. "Shh, it's alright," He crooned.

"No It's not alright!" She screamed. "You're keeping secrets from me and I hate it!" She paused and then yelled so loud that Draco thought he had gone deaf. "I HATE YOU!"

He wished he had gone deaf.

Hermione stomped around him, but was halted when Draco turned her around brutally to face him. He shoved her up against the sink counter. Her back bowed, as her hips ground into his.

"Listen to me, and listen good cause I'm only going to say this once," He growled. "Me and Blaise had some business to attend to. Nothing more, nothing less, and certainly nothing you have to get involved in." Hermione snorted, but was whimpering inside. Sometimes he scared her, but she knew he would never hurt her. Even if that's what it looked like he was doing now.

Hermione brought her hands to Draco's chest and pushed as hard as she could, but he wouldn't budge. His tall, muscular frame was no match for her 120 pound figure.

Hermione started pounding on his chest wit her tiny fists, attempting to make him so annoyed that he would leave. He merely stood there, absorbing every little punch she threw at him. He leaned into her more, making it harder for her to hit him.

"Draco get off!" She started to scream.

"Give it up, Granger," He whispered, while trying to catch her wrists in his hands. Then she let out one high pitched scream, and the room turned upside down. Draco's hand flew over her mouth, at the same time that her fist connected with his jaw. Draco stammered backwards, enough that Hermione wriggled out from underneath him and bolted for her bedroom, but Draco grabbed her by the waist, and pinned her up against the wall in her hallway. She closed her eyes in fake pain, and pulled Draco's hair backwards, taking advantage of that fact that his hand was massaging his jaw. Draco ran after her and threw her against her door, as they rounded the corner, she threw her head to the side, as the contact made a loud "THUMP" Hermione moaned but she was not in pain, and looked at Draco who was still moving his jaw back and forth. He wasn't hurting her at all. She looked down his body, but before he could do anything she kneed him, right where it counted. Draco thought he saw stars. Hermione ushered herself into her room, attempting to shut the door behind her, but Draco was to quick to recover. He clobbered his way into her room, slamming the door behind him, as Hermione backed into a corner, looking for something sharp or heavy.

"Lookey here, Hermione's done for." Draco took two long stepped forward, pinning Hermione between the wall and himself. He heard her whimper, before pulling on her brave face.

"Draco get off of me!" She yelled.

"No I don't think I will." Hermione grabbed Draco's hair and forced him off of her, before he grabbed her ponytail in retaliation, and pulled her to him. He had her head to the side, her hair still in his clutches, as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Why do you insist on killing me Granger?" He whispered.

(LISTEN NOW- of course) I'm so lame.

Draco's hold on Hermione was weak to say the least, but with him so close behind her, rubbing up against her back, it was damn near impossible for Hermione to break free of his clutches. Especially with him whispering in her ear. Draco reached around in front of Hermione and rested one of his hands on the waistband of her cotton pajama bottoms, and the other hand bellow her breasts. He pulled her in, close to himself, dipping his head forward to kiss her neck. Hermione leaned to reach around to him, but he kept his hold on her, tight. She couldn't get away. Not this time. Hermione moaned loudly, as Draco ran his fingers along the rim of her pants. She placed her hand over his, and flattened his palm so that his pinky was dangerously close to his goal, and she arched her back away from him.

"Draco," She moaned his name, as he untied her pants, and reached down, slipping one finger inside her. Hermione bowed her back again, as she continued on praying that he would see reason against torturing her like he had been. Draco began dragging his teeth down her neck, running his tongue along her skin, eliciting a long, pent up moan from Hermione, as he forced another finger inside her. At any moment she would be close to coming undone. It was in that fraction of a second that Draco pulled out of her and turned her around to face him. Before she was facing him, she latched onto his mouth hungrily. This time, her kiss was full of anger and aggression, and passion. All of it built up from their fight. Draco pushed her back on the bed roughly, hovering over her as he slipped off her pants.

Draco crashed into her body forcefully, but avoiding her stomach. He was much to scared to harm the baby, and he kissed her sound on the lips.

Hermione wrapped her legs around Draco and pulled him closer to her, as he showered her neck in butterfly kisses. She took him by his hair, and rolled him over so that she straddled his waist. Hermione tore Draco's shirt off, and unbuckled his pants as he ran his hands through his hair, waiting for her to be done. He ran his hands up her back, pulling off her tank top, and stopping to run his fingers over her enclosed breasts.

For him, time seemed to drip by, more slower than ever.

Draco discarded her baby blue lace bra, and rubbed his fingers slowly, and lightly over her breasts, earning a moan from Hermione. She threw her head backwards, as she rocked her hips back and forth. It was to painful, this waiting.

Draco flipped Hermione over, and pulled her lace underwear down her legs, and kissed his way back up, to the inside of her thigh. She arched her back, as Draco kept his hands planted firmly on her hips, to keep her rooted to the mattress. Draco kicked off his boxers, and the second his body came crashing towards Hermione's, she flipped them over again, so that she rested upright, straddling his legs once again. There fight made her thirst for control. She wanted so badly to show Draco that she needed the power, and the dominance. So, with her help, he slipped himself inside of her, and she rocked back and forth.

Waves of pleasure crashed over her body. Rolling downwards, from her head down to her toes. She moved slowly, trying to the best of her ability to torture Draco like he had tortured her. Hermione threw her head back, and her whole body keeled over backwards. Everything was moving in slow motion. Draco had to keep his hands on her waist to keep her upright. When the final wave crashed over them both, they came together in the single, most powerful thrust, that sent a tidal wave of heat over both their bodies. They were racked with sweat. Their hair was matted to their faces, and they were panting loud as ever. Hermione fell on top of Draco's chest, before she rolled over onto her side, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Wow," Draco managed.

"Yeah," Agreed Hermione

"That was…"

"Absolutely amazing" Hermione finished. "Let's do it again."

Draco sighed, turned over, kissed Hermione hard on the kips, and said "You're going to kill me, woman."

Hermione's core burned, and her body was completely satisfied. Her ribs and back were sore, and her toes tingled. Her stomach throbbed, but more like pumped. She knew that feeling. Although it was unfamiliar in the sense that she had never personally experience it before, she knew exactly what it was, and was certain that she was not mistaken. It felt good to finally be aknowledged by the little baby that was making itself comfortable in her stomach.

This was one of the nights she could add to the list of "Never forgotten."

Not only was it a night that was filled with earth-shattering, toe-curling, heart-stopping, mind-blowing sex, but it was the first night that Hermione was able to feel her baby kick.

A/N: Next chapter will not, I repeat WILL NOT, take as long as this one did.

At least it's semi-long.

Sorry the "lemon," whatever the f you wanna call it, sucked. I wasn't really in the mood to write it... And I know, that's completely my fault. But if I kept you guys waiting any longer I had a feeling that someone would make it over to where I live, tie a bag over my head, and jump me. Then they would force me to write the chapter or something, and I'm not really into that whole being told what to do thing, so... I got it out of me. Hopefully it was enough to tie you over until I get the next chapter out, which won't be to long now... I already have a really good idea for it!(: So, til then... READ, ENJOY, **REVIEW**!! lol. Mm, Like how "Review" is in bold? I wonder why... Hahah.

-Karly.


	13. The Pensieve

A/N: Haha, I said it won't be long for this chapter, well I lied. I lost my internet, so I had to write this chapter and then wait until I could go up to the library to post it, and even that took forever. So sorry. lol

I hated the song for the last chapter, so I think I'm going to change it.

Keep your eyes peeled.

P.S: This chapter is in two points of view, basically. Draco/Hermione.

There are a few songs for this chapter, or more so, a playlist! They're posted in order, hopefully this chapter is long enough for you(:

1) Sia- little black sandals.

2) Shwayze- Corona and lime

3) Pendulum- coma

4) Needtobreathe- looks like love

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling has created the magical world of Harry Potter. Kudos, J.K Rowling. And thanks for letting me unleash all sorts of chaos amongst your characters in my own little fanfiction. It really makes me feel content.

Chapter 13 (The Pensieve)

Hermione awoke to the sound of loud laughter the next day. Draco was nowhere in sight, and the blankets that lay on his side of her bed where tucked neatly underneath the mattress. Hermione grabbed some new clothes out of her drawers, pulled them over her body, and walked outside; all the while, brushing her hair up into a loose ponytail.

When Hermione entered her living room it was a sight to be seen. There sat Ginny and Blaise, on her sofa, laughing loudly at something Draco had said; who was sitting upright in her recliner chair. They all looked to be having a great time, and Hermione instantly regretted sleeping in so late. She never slept in. Though it could have had something to do with the fact that she was up late, though. There was no denying that she was utterly exhausted from the events of the previous night. She inwardly smiled at the memories.

Draco looked up from his spot on Hermione's living room chair and smiled a small, white smile towards her, causing the two other living room occupants to look up at her, as well. Ginny smiled brightly, and Blaise was still laughing from Draco's joke.

"About time you woke up, Granger," Draco mused.

Hermione looked right into his eyes, smirking slightly at the look plastered on his face. Their eyes locked, not for a moment, not for a second, but for what felt like the smallest amount known to mankind, yet could only be described as forever. It would have been completely terrifying had she been any one other than the brave Gryffindor that she was. Draco looked at Hermione, and relished, quite subtly, the fact that he knew all her dirty little secrets. Mostly the ones concerning her reasons for appearing so completely exhausted this particular morning. Draco and Hermione shared this look, making it even more uncomfortable for Ginny and Blaise.

Their gaze went unbroken, and remained intense as Ginny and Blaise receded to the kitchen, and made tea. While the both of them proceeded to acquaint themselves, Draco and Hermione continued to share an unbroken, longing gaze at one another, until Draco got up from his seat, walked up to Hermione, and rested his strong, pale hands on her arms.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, never ceasing to break his stare. This whole wide string of moments made Hermione feel both comfortable and wanted, suddenly. Not that she hadn't before, but this moment just felt right, in so many ways. Hermioen longed to feel comfortable and wanted since her and Ron had broken up, or even before that, but Hermione felt more lucky that Draco was the one to make her feel this way. He made her feel both ways. Comfortable, because it wasn't awkward for her that Draco would look at her the way he was now, as though he could read into her soul, and wanted because that very look said everything neither of them could. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to be the one she would fall asleep next to each night, and the one she would wake up next to, in the morning. He wanted to be the one to make her blush, and laugh, and he wanted to be the one who could make her feel the way he did the first night they had spent together.

Draco wasn't completely sure at the moment, when Hermione would finally tell him that he loved her, for Draco hadn't yet said it himself. But there was no doubt about the way that Hermione felt about him. He just hadn't known it, in words. He knew how she felt, and he was sure she knew that about him as well, but the words meant something to them. It was a big step, and to be able to finally admit them to each other after years of hate and jealousy, was the most massive step either could dream of taking. Draco would soon be able to hear those words flowing form the tip of Hermione's soft pink lips, and he would, in turn, expel the same words and mean every last one of them. Draco was sure of that, but she had to be ready to tell him exactly how she felt on her own time. More so, when she felt _completely_ ready. Judging by the way that they continued to look into each others souls, it was only a matter of time before they each shared their feelings towards one another.

Until then, Draco was completely content with being there for Hermione and his unborn child. She satisfied him fully, and he knew deep down, he could never be happier.

"Draco," Hermione whispered. He looked down towards her and smiled brightly. She looked so adorable in her small cotton shorts, her loose t-shirt, and long striped tube socks. He laughed quietly to himself as he thought about her outfit.

"What?" She asked, puzzled. Draco shook his head.

"It's nothing, really. Just that," He paused. "You look cute." Hermione raised her eyebrow suspiciously, and then laughed quietly as well.

"Yeah, I know, real nice get-up." She put her hand on her stomach and removed it just as quickly, forgetting that it felt second nature to her; to be having a baby. "Listen," she stated, starting to seem uncomfortable in her own skin. "Me and Ginny are going to The Burrow for a while, just to catch up, and so that I can see the family again, would you want to come?" Hermione looked up at Draco and smiled shyly.

"No, I'll stay here. Let you hang out with them on your own," he muttered softly. Hermione shook her head and kissed his lips gently. A fire pulsed through Draco, starting where her lips touched his skin, and shooting downwards, towards his toes. She sent bolts of electricity pulsating through his veins, and he knew that he would die a happy man, knowing that he had gotten his chance with her.

"Alright, if you insist," she stated. "I'll be back soon." Hermione left to the kitchen and Draco followed, determined to ask Blaise what he was going to be doing today.

Draco continued following suit and walked into the kitchen, where Ginny and Hermione where getting ready take hold of a coin portkey and wander off to The Burrow.

"You're going over there dressed like that?" He asked. Ginny and Hermione laughed.

"Mrs. Weasley and George are the only people that are going to be there today," Ginny stated, matter-of-factly.

"All right Flame, whatever you say. Have either of you seen Blaise, he was just here." He asked.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances. "Ah, he left right after him and Ginny were done talking, he said he was going out. And that he had someone he needed to meet." Hermione smiled and winked. Draco knew exactly what that met. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he walked up towards Hermione and kissed her on the forehead. "Have fun," he whispered.

"You too." And with that, both of the women were gone.

Draco looked around, trying to find something to do. He was in Hermione Granger's house, all alone. Surely there was a book to read somewhere around here. He smiled at his own faulty attempt at humor.

"Wow," Draco stated simply. "It's already boring."

The truth was, he wanted to be with Hermione. He wanted to hold her all day while she was in her cute little pajamas, and he wanted to watch the telly with her, or go shopping, or cook with her, or talk about books. He already missed her and she hadn't been gone for longer than a minute.

(listen to song 1)

Draco ran his fingers across a book shelf, and noticed there was no dust. Hermione had touched or moved every single book recently, probably to read all of them for the millionth time. He laughed again, this time louder, because it was more than likely true.

Draco grabbed a copy of '_Hogwarts, A History,' _sprawled out across the top of the couch in Hermione's living room, and began reading. He picked this book, mostly because Hermione read this book the most. It was how she knew everything about Hogwarts. She was a muggle-born and knew more about the school than some of the teachers did. She was 'supposedly' inferior to him, and he was appalled that his dad could have been wrong. Draco was rightfully brighter, better, more intelligent, more humorous, and definitely more good looking just because he was a pureblood and she was muggle-born. That was how it worked. But she excelled in every class she took, and every lesson that was taught. She looked magnificent at the Yule Ball, and Draco couldn't help but think that maybe his father had been wrong, after all.

This book was becoming more and more dull, by the second, so Draco decided to walk around the house some more. He soon made his way up Hermione's stairs and stopped to look at the pictures that were framed. There was one of her, Potter, and Weasley, all smiling brightly; a muggle photograph. There was another picture, of which he assumed where her parents. There was another picture of her and one of her friends at University, where she looked happy and carefree and young, and then there was a picture of her and McGonagall as she held her graduation roll from Hogwarts. Draco noticed she looked horribly pale, and skinny in the picture. She was barely smiling. It was right after the war. Hermione, Ron and Harry all got to finish out their seventh year at Hogwarts, and all of them were able to get their diplomas. Draco remembered that day perfectly. It was the day that he ran from the death eaters, and got a job as a bartender in a muggle pub.

Draco walked up to Hermione's room with the intent of sleeping until she got home. But he noticed something, and he quickly walked into her room. He was alone in Hermione's room. He could snoop all he wanted and not worry about getting caught.

As soon as he was comfortable in Hermione's room, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. It felt so nice to be able to smoke again. Although he knew he probably shouldn't, because of the baby, he could have cared less. He missed smoking, and Hermione wasn't here.

What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

Draco walked around to Hermione's closet, and ran his fingers over her clothes. Stopping to touch delicate pieces of silk, and running his fingers over some of the shirts he knew she wore the most.. He moved his cigarette as far away from her clothes as he could, so that he wouldn't ruin the scent of her skin that pulsated from her clothes. It wafted out of her drawers into his nostrils, filling his brain with the enticing aroma of soothing Lavender. Every time Draco smelt Hermione's hair, or clothes he was in a state of pure ecstasy.

Draco continued to walk around Hermione's room, ashing his cigarette, and stopping to look at Pictures that she had set up on her dresser. There was one of her and Potter. Another one of her and Weasley, and one of the entire Weasley family. To be honest, he was surprised that they would all fit in one picture.

Draco ran his fingers over a small crystal lamp Hermione had in her room. It was tiny, and sparkled brightly, as the teardrop shaped crystals that hung off the side of it, hit the light that shone through the window. Draco moved his fingers back and forth over the intricate lamp shade, as the teardrop shaped crystals created a vivd rainbow montage across the opposite wall. The crystals clinked together and Draco thought instantly, that someone as beautiful as Hermione, deserved pictures, and clothes, and lamps as beautiful as this. It was only natural.

H E R M I O N E -

Hermione walked slowly with Ginny up to the front of The Burrow. The weather was crisp, and it looked as though it were about to rain. It felt like an eternity since she had been to this house. she looked over at her red headed friend and frowned. This was going to be painful. Mrs. Weasley was home, George was visiting, and Bill and Charlie were going about their own business as usual.

She had no reason to worry. Ron wasn't home, and George was only visiting. That though, and that thought alone had gotten Hermione to the front door. Ginny had to handle the rest, by dragging her inside.

Right when Hermione and Ginny walked inside, she was face to face with none other than her ex-boyfriend, Ron Weasley; who was holding a box full of pictures. His wild red hair had grown out slightly, and his blue eyes pierced her as she walked through the door. Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. It was getting harder and harder to breath. It was as though, after she had seen him, the world stopped what they're were doing before, just to see what would happen. The entire planet shifted completely, and Hermione felt as though she had the rug slipped out form underneath her. Ron looked deep into her big, brown eyes with a most pitiful look. He looked as though he were sorry for her, but she was returning that exact look. Ginny even stopped walking inside, and stared at Ron and Hermione. It was a sight to be seen, that much was for sure. They both seemed as though they were moving on, and doing it well, but this was sad. Hermione had to admit, that it was the most uncomfortable, most awkward experience she had ever endured.

"Hermione, dear, you must come inside," Mrs. Weasley urged. Hermione smiled slightly, never taking her eyes off of Ron, and nodded her head once. Almost as though she were acknowledging him, versus Mrs. Weasley. She took one more breath, as George came running down the stairs and eveloped her in a large hug.

"Hermione! What a pleasant surprise!" He stated, smiling at Ron. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" He asked. Ginny frowned.

"I told you we were both coming over today," she stated. Ron furrowed his eyebrows.

"You never told me that," he said to his sister.

"That's because you weren't supposed to be home."

The whole room was silent, and Hermione cursed in her head, for even thinking about coming here, let alone following though. She was so stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, and motioned for everyone to follow her. "Come, come!" She shouted. "I've made food for you all. Ginny, you and Hermione must be exhausted!" She exclaimed.

Hermione followed Ginny into the kitchen, never looking back at Ron or George. Ginny towed behind her mom, whispering quietly to herself. "Well, _that _was awkward."

D R A C O -

Draco continued to sift through Hermione's drawers, and stopped to look at a few pages of books she had ripped out and placed at the bottom of each drawer. It was funny, really. Draco grew up eavesdropping, and snooping around his parents, but it felt unnatural now. He knew he shouldn't be doing it. He acknowledged that, and that made what he was doing feel so foreign to him. That was why, he drifted off towards Hermione's silk covered sheets, and lied down.

Draco Malfoy was bored. He knew he could go out, but he wanted to be home when Hermione arrived back. Plus it was Sunday, and Draco wasn't scheduled to go to work today. He could always show up, and give Mathelda a day off. Although he had worked Most of last week, and only got Saturday and Sunday off. He would stay home and rest. Draco finally started to drift off to sleep when he noticed that something about the room seemed a bit off. Draco got up slowly, circling the room, looking for anything that was out of place. He didn't want Hermione to come home and realize that he had been sneaking around her room, moving things.

Nothing seemed even the slightest bit out of place, but Draco looked around again, just to be sure. This time, he wasn't sure how he could have missed it before. He quickly noticed Hermione's large picture that hung above her dresser was slightly ajar…

H E R M I O N E -

Hermione, Ginny Ron, and George all retreated to the kitchen after Mrs. Weasley. Hermione sat opposite Ginny, next to Mrs. Weasley who had sat at the head of the table, and beside Ron, who sat on her other side. George sat next to Ginny, before Ron could.

Ginny drummed her fingers across the table, and looked up suddenly, as if realizing something.

She didn't have to feel awkward in her own house. That would be ridiculous.

"Ron?" She asked. The red headed boy's face shot up, looking sideways towards Hermione, and then at his little sister. "Why were you carrying boxes?"

As Ron was preparing to say what Hermione thought to be a very well rehearsed answer, a short little blonde, holding more boxes walked downstairs. Ron looked over to Hermione, then towards his mother, who looked sympathetically at Hermione, and Hermione looked at Ginny pleadingly. George looked amused at his mother, and then at Ron, who started back at him with utter contempt.

Ginny just looked confused.

"What's going on here?" Ginny asked, as the blonde set the box down, walked around the table, and stood behind Ron and Hermione.

"Daphne is helping me move into my house," Ron stated simply. Daphne raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows up at Ron as she relaxed her hand on top of his shoulder, smiling brightly.

"And…" Ginny prompted.

"And, then we're going to get her things, and move them into our new place," Ron stated quietly. Hermione felt like she had just been punched in the gut.

She felt almost as like she was the only one who was allowed to move on, but she knew that wasn't completely fair. He should have been entitled to be happy as well. Hermione was happy with Draco, why couldn't Ron be happy with…

"Daphne _Greengrass_?" Hermione asked, slightly peeved, and slightly shocked. Daphne Greengrass was one of the more prettier girls in Hogwart's. Her head of bright blonde curls bounced as she smiled at Hermione. Ron looked a little smug.

Ginny still looked confused.

"Are you guys dating?" Ginny asked, suddenly.

"Well," Ron started, as he looked into Hermione's eyes. They're gazes met, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yes!" Daphne beamed. Her smile was infectious, and Mrs. Weasley was soon joining along. Once she looked at Hermione, her face fell.

"Oh," Hermione started. "Congratulations, Ron." She finished. That was the first thing she had said to him since she had gotten there, and it sounded slightly more condescending that she had meant it. All right, it sounded downright malicious.

"Thanks Hermione," he said, just as condescendingly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long night…

D R A C O -

Draco swung the picture open, revealing a small circular rack, filled with rows of glowing vials. There were four tiers, each filled with around 5 vials each. Draco took one of the small bottles, to examine it. It glowed bright orange and cream and pink in his hands. He thought that maybe they were potions or something, for Hermione's pregnancy, but then he set his eyes upon the round basin set on top of Hermione's dresser. This circular rack, filled with vials, contained her memories. Things that were extracted form her very own mind. Draco took another look at the rack, and noticed the small inscriptions below the bottles. The vial Draco picked up was from the post-war ceremony at Hogwarts. He sat the vial back in the wire contraption, and twirled the rack around, looking at the inscriptions below the bottles.

There was a memory from a party at University, Another with the initials "D.M," and another one with the initials "R.W." Draco twirled the rack around once more and noticed a bottle that said "Hogwarts," and about three more that said "University." Draco took the one he held in his hands, entitled "Uni Party," and poured the contents in the basin. The liquid swirled around, glowing brightly, and Draco looked to his left. Hermione was no where to be seen, so what was the harm? He took one breath and dipped his head into the basin, as his entire body was sucked into the bowl, and he spiraled into a large, messy house.

(song 2)

Draco looked around and spotted a large amount of older teenagers that were dressed in an array of College clothing. The crowd was bustling, and he finally spotted Hermione standing next to a wall, in a tight T-shirt that said OX University Alumni, a pair of light blue, ripped up jeans, and .

Draco thought she looked absolutely exquisite.

As soon as he approached her, a pair of girls walked up to her as well. Hermione smiled and looked down towards her drink.

"Hi!" One of the girls shouted over the loud music. "I'm Angela, and this is Katie!"

"Hi," Hermione yelled, tucking a piece of loose hair back into her ponytail. "I'm Hermione." Both the girls looked at each other, and smiled. Right then, Ron walked up to Hermione, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled at the girls, they returned the greeting and looked towards Hermione.

"Oh, this is my boyfriend, Ron," she managed, turning slightly red.

The girls giggled and reached out their hands to shake his. It made Draco sick to think of Hermione and Ron. Luckily for him, she was his now.

The girls whispered to Hermione and pulled her off in the opposite direction of Ron, leaving him to stand all alone in the crowded hallway, as Hermione looked over her shoulder sympathetically at Ron. Draco followed them and stood closely behind Hermione, still able to smell the extract of lavender radiating off of her skin. It was absolutely intoxicating.

"So what's your major?" One of the girls shouted.

"English," replied Hermione.

"Me too!" She screamed. The other girl merely laughed, and winked at one of the guys standing in the corner.

"Great party, huh?" The other girl mused, as she turned her attention back to their conversation. Hermione nodded her head, smiling brightly.

"Here, we have some guys you should meet." They laughed, and Hermione followed skeptically. Draco followed as well, infuriated, all the while forgetting that it was Hermione's memory. He wanted to see why this was so important to her, that she bottled this up in one of her little glowing vials.

The boys were normal University guys, with their muscles and their heads fill with fresh knowledge. Draco figured one of these guys had to have been better for Hermione, than Ron, that is. Draco believed that a lot of these guys were like he had been at Hogwarts. He was, after all, second best in class- after Hermione.

Hermione stood next to the boys, laughing wildly and constantly sipping on her drink. There was no doubt that Draco was jealous every time she touched one of the guy's arms. She started to tumble over to where she had left Ron, but he was no where in sight. Either this was the first time Hermione was drunk, or she had yet to discover something that she needed to keep a memory of.

Hermione ran upstairs to find Ron sitting in one of the rooms, and he looked up at her.

"You wanna get out of here?" She asked. Ron nodded his head, and followed after her. Soon, they were walking down the street away from the college party, the music still pumping loudly in the background.

"That was great," Hermione whispered loudly and smiled. Ron returned the smile, and took her hand.

"Wow this is boring,' Draco said out loud. "I'm done here."

Just as Ron and Hermione arrived at their tiny house, with Draco behind ready to pull out of the most boring memory he had ever infringed upon, he heard something that was enough to make his heart stop.

"Hermione, I have to ask you something."

"Sure, Ron," She said, wiping sweat off of her forehead. "Go ahead." Ron clamped his hands together, and looked to the ground nervously as he reached into his pocket. "I was wondering." Hermione looked at him sincerely, waiting for him to continue. "If you wanted to marry me."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and she looked at Ron with surprise. "Whoa." Was all she said.

"I know It seemed sudden, and unromantic, but I just love you so much." Draco laughed out loud. The Weasel proposed to Granger while she was drunk, and finished flirting with some other guys. The strange thing was that he knew she would never do that with him. Draco was sure that if he were to ask Hermione to marry him, she wouldn't look so surprised.

"Ron, are you serious?" She asked.

"Yeah, Hermione," Ron pulled out a slick silver ring, with a round diamond in the middle. It was actually quite pretty. Hermione gasped. "I want to marry you." Hermione looked down at the ring, then back at Ron. Her mouth still hanging wide open.

"Oh Ron," She said. It was taking her way to long to answer.

"Of course I'll marry you." She finished, after what seemed like a lifetime of contemplating. Ron promptly let out the breath he was holding in, slipped the ring on Hermione's finger, and kissed her sound on the lips. It was definitely uncomfortable to watch. No wonder they had broken up.

Draco couldn't take anymore of this, so he willed himself back into Hermione's room, and used his wand to put the liquid back into the vial.

Draco took another bottle, entitled "Post-war ceremony," and poured it into the round basin, dipping his head inwards.

(Song 3)

He landed himself right at Hogwarts, in the great hall, where Hermione was sitting, her face void of any emotion. He remembered this day very well. In fact, Draco could see himself across the room, sitting next to his mother, who looked more sad than she had right to be. This was the last day he had seen Hermione, until that fateful day at the bar, almost three months ago.

Professor McGonagall and the Minster of Magic where standing next to each other at a large podium, and the Minister was speaking.

"They were able to defeat Voldemort together, and helped to save the entire wizarding world. I believe I can speak for all the wizard's and witch's present in saying that we truly are grateful for you two, and for Harry as well. Without you, I am sad to say, a majority of us would not be here. We have all suffered immensely, for the losses we have endured, but we also gained our free nation back. For that, we have you two, to thank." The Minister motioned his hand towards Hermione and Ron, who both looked ready to walk out of the ceremony, or pass out dead. Either or.

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, everyone," The entire great hall erupted in erratic applause, and both war heroes looked down at the floor, before being forced to stand up by the people who sat beside them. The applause was even louder, and although everyone was grateful for them today, they were still suffering an unimaginable amount of casualties. So, although everyone was happy that they had won the war, they all looked ready to cry. Hermione looked up, and shifted her gaze towards Draco, the memory version. Draco was surprised, and couldn't help but look at his old self, returning her gaze. Their eyes locked, only for a moment, before she averted her gaze back to the floor. The two sat down, before the hall was finished in their applause. The Minister continued, and then everything turned upside down.

"We want to remember the good and the bad. So, while we remember those who helped us in defeating the Dark Lord," He motioned towards Hermione and Ron, who shook their heads at the same time, moving abnormally slow. "We want to remember those, who gave their lives, helping as well." People began to weep before the Minister had started repeating the list of deceased people. "Harry Potter," He began. Draco noticed his younger self looking over to Hermione, and he looked as well. She wasn't crying. She was merely looking downwards, probably counting floor tiles. He saw her chest rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Draco walked over to where she was sitting and kneeled on the floor in front of her, looking at her face. She looked completely broken. This was definitely a different memory than the Uni party. It was a horrible feeling, having to see her like this. It made Draco feel helpless, and he definitely didn't like that. As soon as the list was over, the crowd dispersed, but Hermione remained behind with Ron. As soon as everyone was gone, Draco sat next to her on the bench, on the opposite side of Ron. Without looking at one another, they reached for each other's hands, and intertwined fingers. It wasn't something that they were doing as a couple, it was merely for comfort. Hermione and Ron were both so spent from the war, that they hadn't even had enough strength, nor control to cry or show any emotion. The Minister had read a lot of names they were surely familiar with, yet there was nothing there to show for it. Hermione and Ron remained in a constant state of numbness, and they sat together, silently, looking towards to floor, blinking incredibly slow.

This was almost to hard to watch, but Ron soon pulled Hermione up and made her follow him out of the great hall and into the front of Hogwarts were they apprated with the rest of the students, and parents, and teachers, to a small cemetery. One that Draco had seen recently this week. It was much prettier, this time of year. The trees were covered in red, yellow, orange, and brown leaves. The ground was covered in plush grass, and the weather was passable. Although it looked like the sky was going to spout of rain at any moment. Everyone gathered around their loved one's graves, and Draco distinctly remembered going to the cemetery although he really had no reason to. He was going to visit Goyle's grave, but he had never really been his friend. Back then, Draco realized, that he really was a jerk. No, instead Draco stood behind a tree, smoked a cigarette, and watched Granger and Weasley at Potter's grave.

When everyone but the two had left, Draco stayed, smoking every last cigarette he had, and ashing on the gound in front of him. It was funny, really. He still had the taste of cigarette's in his mouth, and it made him feel weird because in some odd way, he was connected to his memory that way.

Soon, it was only Hermione who was present in the cemetery. Back then, he could have done something horrible to her, but he knew how much pain she was in. He saw it in her eyes, as she crawled up next the headstone, her back brushing up against the cold concrete, quickly falling asleep, despite the weather. Draco looked around, stumped out his last cigarette, and walked over to Hermione. He looked down at the sleeping girl, kneeling next to her as he pulled a piece of her back form her face.

"I'm so sorry, Granger." He said quietly. Then he did something that even the present Draco was surprised at. He hadn't really remembered this day very well, considering he got absolutely trashed afterwards, but he could remember this moment exactly. Draco slung his cloak over Hermione's body, cast a protection charm over her, and left her alone.

That was one other way that he was connected to his memory, as well. Draco thought that for his younger self, that was probably the nicest he could have been to Hermione Granger. But the connection he ultimately shared with his younger self, in this particular memory, was that- if he had seen Hermione Granger curled up beside a grave, he would have done the same thing. Although now he would probably pick her up and apparate her to her own house, and lie her down in bed, it was the closest thing he could do back then, to be even remotely close to what he would do now.

And Draco knew that he would have died to be in the position he was in, four years ago.

He remembered the night that he brought Hermione home from the cemetery, bawling, and how good it felt to hold her in his arms. That was how it should have been all those years ago. Definitely.

Draco imagined he would be tossed out of the memory on his arse, but it wasn't over yet. He was waiting for the moment to be finished completely, but Hermione awoke after Draco had left the cemetery. He hadn't known that.

Hermione pulled his cloak over her body, tightly, smelling the fabric. She looked over to where he had just left, shut her eyes, and said "Thank you Draco." Hermione fell asleep shortly after that moment.

That was when Draco was kicked out of the memory.

He quickly used his want to clean up this memory, and slip the vial back into the wire rack. The next memory he had pulled out was the one entitled "D.M." Draco knew exactly what that stood for, for he was not a fool, and he wanted to see what memory she would keep of him. So Draco slipped the stopped off the top of the tiny tube, poured the memory into the large, glass bowl, and took a deep breath before diving into this memory. Quite frankly, he was getting extremely tired, and he needed to sleep before Hermione got home.

This night he knew well.

(Song 4)

Hermione Granger was sitting on the ground beside the lake, by herself, in front of a large tree covered in Christmas lights that did a perfectly good job of illuminating her face. The ground was covered in snow, and Hermione was wearing a tight black coat, a snow hat, a pair of gloves, boots, and a scarf. The water was frozen over and everyone was inside, next to the roaring fire of their common room. But not Hermione Granger. She was outside, and so was Draco, actually sitting on the opposite side of the lake. Draco walked over to Hermione, and sat down beside her, peering over her shoulder at the book she was reading. Hermione first noticed him hobbling over to her, unsteadily, and she continued to look down at her book, thinking he was drunk.

"Granger," Draco greeted. He must be drunk.

"Malfoy," she returned. The older Draco looked over at the lake and smiled down to his younger self.

"I can't believe that she would remember this," he whispered to himself.

"Of course I would remember it," Hermione said from behind him. Draco turned around swiftly, and saw Hermione, the older version, standing behind him. He walked up to her took her face in his hands, and looked down at her sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry Hermione," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to go through your stuff." Hermione laughed.

"I would be more shocked if you didn't," she replied honestly. Draco laughed, and wrapped his arms tight around her waist. "This was the first night we talked to each other in our seventh year." Draco said.

"Yeah, and I have a feeling that it was because your dad was in jail and no longer gave a damn who you hung out with." Hermione and Draco both laughed.

"That could have been half of it," He replied. "Or I just really wanted to talk to you." Hermione laughed again.

"I'm betting on the second one," she said, surely.

"Shh, this is the best part," Draco whispered in her ear.

They both turned their attention towards themselves, Draco, who was standing with his skates on, took Hermione's book out of her hand, and transfigured it into a pair of skates for her.

"Draco do you even know how to skate?" Hermione asked honestly, slipping on the skates.

"Of course I know how to skate, Granger, I know everything." The older Hermione laughed, and Draco looked down at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, you know it's true, Hermione," he whispered to her.

"Alright, yes, it's true. Shh, It's getting good," she replied, looking out towards themselves.

The younger Draco took Hermione's hand, and led her out to the lake, helping her over the side. And holding her steady.

"Whoa, Granger," he said as she slightly tipped over. "Balance problems, much?" Hermione laughed, and held onto his shoulders tight.

"You've just now noticed that," she snapped back. "I can't do this Malfoy, I don't know how." Draco took her hands and smiled.

"I'll show you, Granger."

Hermione took his hands and began to follow him slowly, as Draco led her on, backwards. The lights from the trees overhead sparkled brightly, illuminating the entire lake, and the couple skating. Hermione smiled vibrantly, and began skating on her own, as Draco followed her. She could soon skate faster than she had before and was doing it all on her own. Right then, she had to grab on to Draco's hands, as she began to become unsteady.

"Whoa," he said, as she crashed into his chest.

"Sorry,' she murmured. Hermione looked up into Draco's eyes.

"It's alright Granger," Hermione smiled, as did Draco, for her smile was infectious, and they began skating separately. Suddenly, Hermione's hand latched on to Draco's, and he looked towards her.

"Damn Granger, you sure are-" Hermione and Draco both fell over, One on top of the other, before Draco could finish his sentence.

"Clumsy?" she finished.

Before he could come up with an insult, she started laughing. Hysterically. "Granger?" Draco asked. His smile widening before he began laughing just as uncontrollably. The both of them weren't able to stop themselves, and it was a sight to be seen. The older Hermione began laughing as well.

"What Hermione?" Draco asked, slightly confused. He smiled, as her laugh got louder. It really was hard to keep a straight face when Hermione was clutching her side from giggling so hard. Draco soon joined in Hermione's hysterics. "Hermione!" He yelled, laughing louder, and slipping his hands out from around her waist. All four of them were laughing so hard, tears were rolling out of their eyes.

The younger Hermione and Draco tried standing, but failed miserably, resulting in more laughter. Hermione lowered her head to Draco's chest, as It heaved up and down from his laughing. Draco clutched her head, as they both laughed harder.

The real Draco and Hermione fell backwards on the snow, breathing heavily.

Draco took Hermione's face in his hands, and kissed her lightly on the lips. He wanted to that back when he was younger, on the ice, but couldn't find the courage. Now, he had no problem. Once their lips parted, Hermione got up, offering her hand to Draco, and pulling him up beside her.

"You ready to go?" She asked.

"One second," replied Draco.

He walked up towards his younger self, who was now towering over Hermione in her younger years. He bent down to whisper in his own ear.

"Don't worry mate, You'll get to kiss her one day," he said. "And it'll be everything you imagined and more." Hermione smiled and waved him over to her as she stood, huddled over in the snow.

"Draco, let's go!" she shouted. "It's actually cold out here," she smiled brightly, as she laughed out loud. Draco ran over to her, took her in his arms, and they both pulled out of her memory, and threw themselves backwards on her bed.

"I missed you," Draco said, as he turned to face Hermione on her bed. "How did tonight go?" Hermione sighed, and laughed to herself.

"Ron was there." She said simply.

"Well, I'm glad I didn't go then." He smiled, as did she, before she tucked a piece of hair back into her ponytail.

"He wasn't supposed to be there," she reminded him. "And get this," she paused. "He's dating Daphne Greengrass." Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" He asked himself.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione began. "Maybe because she was in our year, and a Slytherin." She stated. Draco laughed.

"Well, well, well," He began. "Good thing we were ahead of the curve, huh?" Hermione looked at him amused.

"Oh yes, my Slytherin friend. Inter-house relationships must be all the rage this season." Draco laughed.

"Yes, My little Gryffindor friend, they must be. However, that outfit is not." Hermione laughed, fingering her old t-shirt and looking down towards her tube socks.

"And I had to eat dinner with them in these clothes." Hermione smiled vividly.

"How embarrassing." said Draco, before they both began laughing and Draco took the initiative to kiss Hermione sound on the lips.

A/N: HOW'S THAT!? Lol. I had fun re-reading this with all the songs, I'm not going to lie. I'd really like to know what you all thought about that chapter(: It would be amazing!! So REVIEW!! Tell me how you liked the actual chapter, and the songs that went with everything! I would appreciate it very much… !!


	14. Pureblood Pollution

Chapter 14- Pureblood Pollution

A/N: Oh my God! I am sooooooo sorry for the undeniably LATEEEE update. I've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff lately. I've been in and out of Doctor's offices, the hospital, etc… I just can't been believe how irresponsible I've been with this story and with Walk the Line. I am so sorry.

IMPORTANT! A/N: Ah, and I've re-read a few of the previous chapters and realized that I was going to have to re-vamp and edit the ENITIRE thing. First off- there were a lot fo spelling and grammar mistake. Second- Hermione spent way to much time at home for something who is a teacher. Third- I made them all 20, when in reality it should be more like 25. Ugh. This is probably going to take a while but I suggest re-reading it when I post something on here- like an A/N: saying that I'm finished. I realized I wasn't sure I was ready to kill off a few select characters- before you get to excited, it's not Harry- but you'll just have to wait and see. Plus Hermione's pregnancy is all screwed up. So, I'll inform you when this is all finished.

Anyways, as for my writing style now goes- I've been reading a lot of Francesca Lia Block books and so it has changed a little bit. I admire the way she uses imagery but doesn't really put in to much detail. She doesn't fluff her stories to death and I have a tendency to do that. I'm sure you'll barely be able to tell, but I just wanted to warn you. After I re-read some of this story before I wrote this chapter, I could tell a difference, but that's because this is me.

Anyways, this is "Pureblood Pollution." The song list is below. I'll put in when you're supposed to listen to them. (I've got new music for you guys!! lol) Just know that I still love the people who read this fic and that I'm really sorry. This is going to be extra long and action packed just for you guys… Now- to appease my Walk the Line readers… lol

Oh yeah, and this takes place about a month after the last chapter took place.

Song: "Running up that hill" By: Placebo

Damn, I haven't wrote one of these in forever...

DISCLAIMER: I did not write Harry Potter. These aren't my characters, blah blah blah. But the plot is mine-- and also parts of various lifetime movies. lmaooo

"It's getting really bad." Hermione listened to Draco speak and swallowed thick. They're calling it pureblood pollution. They want to annihilate all muggle- bornes and half-bloods."

Blaise glanced at the brave woman allowing him refuge on her couch. He had come to enjoy her company and was looking forward to the birth of his… Nephew? Niece? He didn't know. She looked so radiant despite the going-on's of the wizarding world. Her skin glowed. The kitchen smelled of jasmine and vanilla, the vines of the flowers in Hermione's garden wrapped around the window frame, softening the sound of the wind chimes outside. Hermione was stirring a potion that smelled like dull mandarin and oranges- like something she had cooked. Burritos and tamales in the hot summer. An orange cream frosted cake. He knew it was a batch of pregnancy potions. Draco had wanted to make them but was instead persuaded into informing her of all that had been going on during the past two months. She had been mortified when Blaise and Draco returned from a death eaters meeting late last week- both sporting hefty bruises and extensive injuries.

"They're against anything associated with muggles but they sure don't shy away from any forms of muggle punishment," Draco had said, while Hermione tried to nurse his broken nose and shining purple eye back to health. Blaise snorted and winced from the pain. Hermione tended to him as well.

The scent of orange was overpowering. Draco stopped his speech and looked quizzically towards Hermione who looked a tad bewildered. "Are you sure you're doing that correctly?" He asked. Hermione scoffed.

"Of course I'm doing it right!" She exclaimed. "I'm Hermione Granger," she mumbled under her breath, sure no one had heard her. Draco rolled his eyes but peered over her shoulder nonetheless.

"Let me see that," he demanded. Hermione tried to look harsh, but couldn't help but agree that there was a possibility that she had done something wrong. Draco smelled the potion and winced. "To much wolsfbane." Hermione glared and looked into her potion text.

"I put in a only a table. That's exactly what it says. There's nothing wrong with my potion. It just smells a little… strong." Blaise smiled. Even though she was testy, Hermione was still the most fun person he had gotten to meet in his entire life. Despite what people may have thought, Slytherin's weren't the most exciting bunch.

"Have you gone blind, you crazy wench! It says a pinch, Hermione, A pinch! You could have very well killed yourself if you drank this!" Draco shouted. Hermione's eyes widened, for her was right. She could have very well killed herself. But she was sure it said a table. Absolutely positive. Perhaps she was loosing it.

"Oh! Now I need to start all over!" Draco sneered.

"Of course you're not starting over, I'm doing this for you." Hermione glared.

"No you're not." And before he could protest she walked into her pantry, which doubled as a potions store cupboard. She pulled the overhead light string downwards and glanced around at the dusty vials labeled in faded yellow paper. Moth eaten curtains hung over certain shelves toward the back end of the wall. She carefully lifted the soft fabric and ran her hand over some bottles, the oil lapping up at her fingers. She finally found the wolfsbane and pulled the vial from the shelf. It was empty. She walked back towards her kitchen table, defeated. "We have none left," she said.

Draco bit his cheek to keep a lame smile from creeping across his pale face. She had said "we."

Draco looked at Hermione's sad expression and realized that he would have to go to out and get more potions supplies. He couldn't very well go out there dressed and looking like a fugitive and he couldn't risk Hermione going out there by herself. He would have to get help from one of her friends. The only one left really…

"So we ask the She-Weasel for some help. She can go and get some wolfsbane from the apothecary." Hermione's face brightened considerably.

"Oh no, please Draco, I can go and get it. I haven't been out of the house in an eternity!" Blaise laughed. She sat on that hammock out back, every night. But she was right, really. She had only ever been to the muggle grocery store in the past two months. Draco was somewhat over protective. Nonetheless, Blaise thought he had every right to be, what with everything going on in the wizarding world.

Draco shook his head and sat down in the chair next to Hermione, his hand stroking her bone thigh affectionately. He tried to appeal to her sensible side.

"I can't let you go out there with those monsters looking for people like you." Draco's voice was soft. Hermione knew he hadn't meant to insult her. "It's not safe. I can't lose you. Not now." Draco looked down at her stomach. The faintest hint of pregnancy only slightly visible. Hermione cringed.

"I need to get out of here." She said. Draco paused for a moment and then nodded in understanding. He was getting cabin fever as well. Although, lying with her in her bed every night was more than he could ever hope for, much less deserve, Draco was on the brink of a massive mental breakdown. There was too much going on to be cooped up inside a house. He hated waiting for things to happen. He hated not knowing what was really going on. He hated hiding. So he shook his head, grabbed his cloak, and scooped out the two vials from his inside pocket.

"I made these for Blaise and I, but I can always make more. These were a precaution. We can take them and go out, but we can't stay out long." Hermione nodded and took one of the vials in her own soft pink hand. She wasn't sure if it was good for the baby, but she figured Draco would never offer if it weren't. She swallowed it in one quick gulp and resisted the urge to run to the sink and hurl. Her skin bubbled and morphed into a face not her own.

"Who am I?" She asked, minutes later. Draco had finished changing as well, but still looked a little ill. Hermione wasn't sure if that was the unsuspecting polyjuice victim's normal appearance, though. Draco shook his head like a dog, trying to get accustomed to this new body. Hermione ran her fingers through her short dark hair and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. She hadn't risked a look in the mirror just yet. Blaise guffawed loudly and looked between Draco and Hermione. He was hysterical.

"I had too pick two pureblood people who are not, nor ever will be associated with death eaters alliance or The Order that so that we weren't going to be targeted by either party." Hermione became suspicious.

"Draco Malfoy, what do I look like?" Blaise laughed. And snorted the word "pug." Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Pansy Parkinson!?" She barked. "Draco Malfoy, if you've done this on purpose because this is one of your sick fantasies, well then… You're sick!" Draco grimaced.

"Please. I won't even kiss you like that, no offense Hermione. I'd rather be caught by the Order. Or the Death Eaters." Blaise laughed again, much more loudly. Hermione even cracked a small grin. "Well then, Blaise, do you wish to join us?" Blaise smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, I think I'm good right here." Draco nodded and looked to Hermione once again.

"Here are the rules, Hermione. We can't very well speak in public. In case you hadn't noticed before, Pansy is very- strict- on who she associates herself with. She wouldn't ever talk to Ernie McMillan willingly," Hermione nodded. "I'm still going to be with you, just, from a distance." Draco grimaced at this and whispered as an afterthought "I hate having to leave you alone." Hermione smiled and bit her lip. Draco noticed that Pansy looked much sweeter this way.

"I'm a big girl Draco, I can take care of myself." Draco nodded.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Before Hermione could begin to guess what he had meant, Draco rushed out the front door, covered almost entirely by his cloak. "Now, I'm going to apparate us both to the Leaky cauldron. I don't want you splynching yourself. You can follow me inside after a few minutes." Hermione nodded solemnly. "Oh and Hermione," she turned around to face him. "Try and act- disgusted. Pansy doesn't have to try that hard to look pug-like, but you might." Hermione smiled brightly and winked at Draco before watching him disappear.

Ernie McMillan walked inside of the Leaky Cauldron apprehensively. Inside his head, Draco screamed. The stench of beer was overwhelming. Draco was reminded of the lack of alcohol in Hermione's house. He missed casual drinking. Sipping on a beer just for the sake of taste. The firewhiskey was sometimes too much and they were running low anyways. There were some things Draco had a hard time dealing with when he returned home from Death Eaters meetings. Drinking the harsh firewhiskey helped. Hermione never really minded either. Draco already saw a bit of it had been like for her in college. He smiled at the memory.

Draco walked around the pub and noticed that there were a number of dark, hooded figures giving eyeing him from each corner of the room. Slytherins from both before and after he graduated were sitting atop grimy, liquor stained tables cheering wildly and slamming down shots of firewhiskey. They never hissed afterwards. They relished the burn in the back of their throats. They were used to it from their time spent serving Voldemort.

Ernie McMillan was never a bad guy. Before the war he declared no affiliation with either side. Draco doubted he would be allowed to be a death eater anyways, but who knew. At that point in the war, Voldemort had been seriously desperate for recruits. Harry Potter was giving him a run for his galleons and Voldemort never really liked being second. Ernie was a coward. Draco knew he wasn't put into Hufflepuff for nothing. Now, as Draco stared into the eyes of so many evil, conniving witches and wizards, he felt the same way. It was not hard for Draco to pull of McMillan's face. In fact, it was much more easy than he would have guessed. A dirty, older slytherin came up to Draco and hissed. "What are ye doin' ere?" he slurred. Ernie gulped.

"Jus' leaving," he stuttered. The man laughed wildly and bored his dead eyes into Draco.

"Jus' Leavin' eh? Jus' leavin'. Well then ye bes' be on yer way t'en? Wudn't want no trouble, would ye?" Draco nodded absentmindedly. If he weren't disguised right now, Draco Malfoy would not be so complacent in taking an old mans orders. Right now, though, they could capture Ernie, and torture him if they wished. Slytherins were very prejudiced people. If they found out instead that it was Draco that had taken a polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Ernie, they would be undoubtedly curious. Suspicious. The Slytherins would not ask questions first.

"Of course sir, I'll just be on m-my w-way." The group laughed and Ernie scuttled out of the bar, towards the old brick wall. Inside, Draco fumed, wanting to walk right back into that bar and hex that old man. Instead, he waited by the entrance to Diagon Alley, patiently wondering where his pregnant girlfriend was.

Hermione sauntered into the pub pinching her nose together skillfully. She had half a mind not to hex Draco. Hell, half a mind not to hex herself! Hermione was brave, but once she caught sight of her old Slytherin classmates, drinking and acting wild so casually, she nearly lost it. The bar was thick with dust and a stale odor Hermione could not identify. Her pregnancy made her very sensitive to smells. Hermione felt sweat and dirt. She looked around. The Leaky Cauldron used to be somewhat welcoming. It meant she was going back to Hogwarts. Now it made Hermione slightly nervous.

Dark, haunting curtains billowed in the chilling draft of the place. The once warm, solid oak tables were transfigured into wrought iron with cold hard chairs deposited at every end and corner. The legs of the tables were like knives. The beer stains on the table looked like blood.

Hermione halted in her exploration of the interior decorations, or lack thereof, of the pub. Despite the acrid stench and putrid stinginess of the place, Hermione noticed the occupants were all clothed in the finest silks and velvets. Rubies, gold's, emerald's peach satin and lace. Girls in gauzy dresses that looked victorian, all drunk. There hair was knotted into thick gray thatches on the tops of their heads. Hermione looked to the bar and merely sneered. It made her look uncannily like a Parkinson. The group of Slytherins eyed her speculatively and curiously. Pansy Parkinson held her head high, though. Hermione Granger, prayed furiously. Hermione saw Ernie McMillan pacing wildly in front of the tall brick wall. Once he spotted her though, he tapped a pattern out on the tiles without waiting for her to catch up and descended through the entrance to Diagon Alley.

(listen to "Running up that hill" now)

Draco was enraptured. Hermione was furious. She was also completely and utterly heartbroken. Defeated. She would cry once she got home. And Hermione Granger rarely ever cried.

This was much worse than they could have ever imagined.

"Merlin, they've actually done it," Draco said. It sounded like he admired them. But he said this in bewilderment. He did not think they would get this far. He had been hiding for too long inside Hermione's safe, warm home. He did not admire them.

Hermione did not hear him, though. She stared on in wonder, her eyes skimming over her favorite shops. All of them boarded over with thick, heavy wood and nails. Draco grabbed her arm, but she shrugged it off. Paper littered the ground and blew in the harsh breeze. Her breath came out in thick puffs of smoke. She hadn't ever remembered it being this cold- even as snow fell and blanketed the ground in a thick coat. Even as Icicles hung heavy over the ledge of shop windows. Sharp, like daggers. The ground was bare. Hermione could still see the blue, green, red cobblestone. She hugged herself to keep warm. The lack of festive lights- come to think of it,- lights at all, did not help the weather either. Hermione doubted though, that the cold had anything to do with temperature. It was the vacancy. The emptiness. The deserted shops, the boarded over windows. The smell of decaying flesh. The poorly dressed man sleeping upright next to her favorite bookstore. It was closed-windows boarded up- and the mans skin was sloughing off one side of his face. Hermione wished that he was sleeping. She wished hard and prayed even more. She knew he was dead. What hurt more was that no one seemed to care. A few witches simply sauntered past him and glared at both her and Draco before making their way down another deserted side-street.

He once again tried to take her arm and she allowed it this time- until another couple rounded the corner. Then she shrugged him off and he took the hint.

They could not be seen together. It was even more prudent that they try to remain inconspicuous. The cloaks helped. They were a disguise. Hermione and Draco blended in well with the backdrop. Everything was dead and dying and death. The sky rumbled like the inside of a starved stomach. Hermione knew she did not look like Pansy Parkinson then. She knew she could not try. She listened to the wind- It seemed to be whispering. The clouds looked like an omen. Tea leaves inside an empty cup warning of danger and bad health and accidents and violence. Hermione listened. She heard it say get out. She heard it say get away from this. She stroked her protruding belly and walked almost confidently to the end of the street.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she walked past the man.

Hermione Ignored the stores she used to shop in, not taking more than a quick glance at what was left of the quiditch shop, not looking back to see Draco's nostrils flaring or him shaking his dark brown hair. She did not listen to the wind.

The Apothecary was one of the only stores left open. Hermione guessed that even evil witches and wizards had the same need to make potions. The man behind the counter looked Hermione over and licked his lips. She saw his crooked teeth from her place in the doorway. Draco quickly whispered to her before she walked inside the shop. "Find what you need and be quick, okay?" He figured she would be safer inside the store than she would be outside. Her wand was tucked into the waistband of her stretch pants. He gave her a quick kiss, making sure no one was watching. No one was.

They stood outside for a moment longer- as if it were the last time they would be able to see one another. The stomach of a sky threatened to swallow them both.

Hermione looked over the shelves trying to find what she needed so she could quickly return to Draco and get home. The man in the store had pale, ghostly blue eyes that followed Hermione around the store. His skin was pale and wrinkled. Hermione thought of his teeth.

Wolfsbane was scary if not used correctly. A death sentence Suicide. Murder.

The man smiled as he rang Hermione up. She was sick to her stomach.

"10 galleons, 2 sickles, 3 knuts." Hermione nodded, pinched her nose and left the store walking softly. As she rounded the corner to meet with Draco, she broke into a sprint.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered. Draco nodded looked around once more and kissed Hermione passionately while holding onto her tightly. He wouldn't let her go.

They both walked back to the thick brick wall quickly, staying several paces away from each other. Hermione reached the back entrance of the Leaky Cauldron first and walked into the bar, determined to make it to the front as soon as she could. Draco was behind her just walking through the back way himself. One of the men called out to her.

"Oi! Ms. Parkinsssson," he slurred. Hermione's eyes went wide but she quickly fixed her appearance and looked towards the man.

"Can I help you?" She asked confidently.

"You sure could," he said suggestively. Pansy sneered. Hermione tensed and swallowed quickly. Draco clenched his fists. "We was all wonderin'," he started. "What's you say about joinin' our ranks girly?" Hermione smiled a sickly sweet smile and raised an eyebrow. Draco though she was very good at this.

"I'm not interested." and with that she walked out of the bar and Hermione waited what seemed like an eternity for Draco to follow.

The old man from before approached Draco. "I won' be seein' ye in ere again, you got that boy?" Ernie nodded solemnly, and Draco made his lip quiver. Then he felt his skin pop. Draco's eyes went wide. The man looked at him oddly. He sprinted out the door as his skin bubbled and sizzled, morphing back into his pointed self. He grabbed a hold of Hermione and apparated her to her front yard Right as the last of her transformation ended.

He could feel warm air crushing his lungs. The scent of herbs from Hermione's garden. He could hear the wind chimes. The soft murmur of voices from the telly inside. He felt the grass brush against his ankles and Hermione relax her shoulders. Her skin was so much softer.

Draco could still smell the orange and mandarin form this morning but what overpowered that was the Jasmine and Vanilla in vines that hugged Hermione's open kitchen window. It smelt sweet; like home. Like light. The lights were soft when they walked in. Hermione whispered that she was going to take a bath. Draco nodded and sat down at the kitchen table with Blaise. He rubbed his head and sighed.

"She'll be in there crying," Draco said. Blaise furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "They've got the whole place boarded up. Everything is gone Zabini. Everything." Draco gulped and pushed his hair back out of his face. He inhaled the fumes from the kitchen. Orange and cream frosted cakes. Tamales in the hot summer. Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. "There were dead people on the street. Sky looked like Voldemort cast a dark mark. They've done it Blaise . They've actually gone an done it." Draco couldn't really keep his head up any longer. He heard the water running upstairs. The smell of Lavender drifted down the hallway.

(Listen to "Collect Call" By: Metric)

Hermione did not skimp on the bubble bath. The smell of lavender instantly relaxed her muscles. She put purple flowers in her bath water. They floated on the surface. Candle flames flickered with the warm breeze sneaking in through the open window. Hermione had a perfect view as she sunk into her vintage bath tub. She could see the flowers outside and another wind chime hanging above her window. The air smelt like nature. Earth. It was completely relaxing. The bath oil made the porcelain slippery. It sunk into Hermione's skin. She sighed contentedly. This was just what she needed after such a hard day. She remembered Diagon Alley then; What was left of it, and started to cry. Harry would have been destroying things in his rage if he had seen that. This thought made Hermione cry harder because she would not do anything.

Draco walked in quietly and breathed deeply. He looked at Hermione, her eyes screwed shut and saw the tear that had escaped. He sat down on the ledge of the bath and took off his shirt. Hermione could feel him there. She could sense him, smell him, even over the lavender and scents of outside. She could feel him tugging off his clothes and slipping into the water with her. He pulled her over to him and sat her back against his chest, her bottom resting in between his thighs. Hermione continued to cry.

The water felt undeniably thick and heavy. It was hot. Hermione was flushed and covered in a thin sheen of lavender smelling sweat. Draco kissed her shoulder affectionately. She rested her back against his solid chest. She was incredibly thankful for him at that moment. She was still crying.

Draco washed her hair and ran a cloth over her shoulders, her swollen breasts and her small pregnant stomach in between her thighs down to her feet. Hermione felt like sleep. She breathed deeply and listened to the wind. It told her she was safe. It told her not to leave here. She didn't want to. So Draco turned the vintage golden knob and let the bath be filled with hot water every so often. They both laid in the water long after their fingers and toes had pruned. Hermione was dizzy from the smells. Draco was dizzy from her kisses. She rested her head in the junction between his head and shoulder. Draco smoothed his hand down her side, skimming her breast. Hermione soon fell asleep, while running her fingers through his hair.

Draco toweled a sleepy Hermione off and slipped her into a soft blue nightgown. She pulled it up to her shoulders and smoothed the hem against her thigh. Draco carried her into bed and opened the window to let in the midsummer night breeze. The air was musty and thick with warmth. Hermione liked this kind of weather. Draco smiled at her wild hair. It was long, but curled violently because of the humidity. Hermione laughed sleepily and fingered her hair.

"It gets pretty bad, huh?" Draco smiled and put his hand into her hair while he kissed her goodnight. Hermione sighed.

"It's just one more thing I love about you." Hermione looked at him seriously.

"I'm really glad I have you right now, with everything going on." She was now wide awake. "I would never have admitted this before, but I'm scared. With Voldemort it didn't even seem this bad." Draco had realized this as well. Death Eaters had never been able to accomplish something like this. Taking over Diagon Alley. Draco knew they were all proud. It scared him as well. But more so, made him pissed as all hell. Draco smiled down at her.

"I am lucky to have you, Hermione." She smiled in return and leaned in to kiss him. The curtains billowed, chiffon like in the wind. This wind was good though. Hermione liked this kind of wind. She was not scared here. She knew it had everything to do with the man lying beside her.

Hermione slipped off her nightgown and tossed it to the floor. She lay bare, on top of the bedspread with Draco. His eyes raked over her body, but not lustfully. Hermione closed her eyes and rested a hand on top of her stomach. Draco put his hand on top of hers and laid his head down next to her. Hermione's breasts were swollen with milk, her limbs were still painfully thin. He kissed across her collarbone and felt the bottom of her rounded stomach. He felt down her narrow hip bones. Hermione rubbed her ankles together and whispered. "I'm so tired." Draco smiled but leaned down and kissed her hips anyways. Hermione bit her thumb. Draco laid back against the sheets and sleepily stroked Hermione's hair. The leftover lavender from the bathroom powdered the walls and the carpet and the cerulean tile in the bathroom. They kissed dreamily and Hermione was always panting, for it took extra strength for all her actions. They made love gentle and slow and for longer than Hermione could handle. Draco was always careful touching, barely ghosting over her skin. Running his lips over her, never kissing, just biting and hovering. There moans carried on outside, up into the wind. Hermione's hands were raw from holding her headboard. She ached in between her thighs. Draco's hair was wet with sweat and Hermione pushed it out of his face as she kissed him.

Her muscles were relaxed. Her bones felt like chalk, her blood like hot milk. Draco liked the feel of her warm skin and satin nightgown resting against him. They slept without covers and woke up the closest they had ever been to each other.

Hermione had a doctor's appointment the next morning. She was sore between her thighs and still upset from that night. She had gotten no sleep. She felt like her stomach was bleeding. She saw the red this morning.

Her knuckles were red and raw. She bit them while she cried and Draco held her.

They both walked out to Draco's rust red pickup truck and drove to the doctor's office.

Draco sat with Hermione in the waiting room; Leaned back against the chair as she flipped through a glossy magazine; Ran his fingers through her hair when she fell asleep, her head on his lap.

Finally a nurse had come in. "Hermione Granger." Draco nudged Hermione awake and they walked to the small patient room together after she had gotten weighed and measured. Hermione held onto Draco's hand tight, the whole time. Draco watched Hermione undress.

Saw the bruises on her thighs and her hips.

She slipped into the starched hospital gown. It hung loose off of her bone shoulders. The doctor apologized. "Sorry, It's a one size fits all kind of deal. We normally don't get patients as thin as you." He smiled. "Hope on the table."

The paper wrinkled and cracked under Hermione's weight.

Hermione had always thought that Doctor's offices were supposed to be warm and personal, but they were not. They never were. They were full of cold metal and plastic and paper cloth and they smelt like olives and bleach.

Hermione remembered how nice and comforting St. Mungo's was but Draco did not want her going. He said it was not safe. He reminded her of Diagon Alley. Hermione bit her fingers.

The doctor draped a thin sheet over Hermione's lower half with a papery white sheet and covered her engorged middle in cold goop. It looked like the ceiling was pulling her belly up from underneath her wire-basket ribcage. Everything was seashell shallow and chalky like dust except her stomach. It was full of the home baked bread and soup they had eaten that morning. Draco knew his little baby was in there, too. A little Hermione-boy or Draco-girl.

Draco laughed at Hermione's expression and kissed her temple lovingly. She sighed as she watched her insides wriggle and squirm on the black and green static monitor. She saw a bubble withering around, beating; Pulsing. Hermione's eyes crinkled as she smiled.

"Is that it? Is that the baby?" Draco smirked at Hermione's enthusiasm. He, too, was curious.

The doctor smiled faintly and nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but did not. Both Hermione and Draco, being the observant people they were, noticed. "What, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.

The doctor shook his head. "Nothing is wrong." He continued to maneuver the ultrasound stick around her abdomen. "I am very concerned about your weight, though." Hermione bit her lip but nodded. "You are 103 pounds now. Have you been able to keep anything down lately?" Hermione shook her head enthusiastically.

"Oh yes. I eat all the time now." Draco snorted and Hermione sent him a scathing look. He still nodded his head at the doctor.

"She really does." The doctor smiled and shook his head.

"Now you can't really see anything right now. You can hear the heartbeat, though." Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, you can," She said pensively. Draco wondered what she was thinking about. The doctor continued.

"Everything seems in order. We just wanted to check your family history, and if you've had any previous deliveries, things of that nature. Weight. Blood and urine samples." Hermione and Draco both nodded. "I also want to tell you to be extra cautious. I know that you're weight is somewhat of an issue and the bleeding may have alarmed you. Miscarriages do tend to happen during the first twelve weeks or so, so I advise you to take it easy for now." Draco nodded ominously. Hermione said nothing.

Hermione dressed again and she and Draco both made their way out of the doctor's office. She held his hand again, tightly. She leaned into his side, shielding her face from his view. He heard her breathe heavy and shake.

Then he heard her whisper. "I'm scared, Draco."

He sighed. He was scared, too. But he knew that everything was going to be okay. They always had each other .He rubbed Hermione's back and whispered soothing words of comfort in her ear.

"Everything is going to be okay," he said. And he truly believed that with all of his heart.

Even with his comforting touch and sincerity, Hermione did not.

A/N: I know, it's a little short, but I couldn't wait any longer to get this up here. You guys were all flagging this and reviewing and stuff I felt like you deserved this update sooner. So I skimped a little… lol. I'll update again soon. :D

-weetz.


	15. Four Days Later

Songs:

1) Adele- hometown Glory

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling.

I got a lot of reviews saying to continue this story. The reviews are helping me. They make me want to update for you guys. Keep em' coming.

(Song 1)

Hermione looked out of the window of Draco's truck and imagined the rain licking her skin, clearing the blood stains off of her hands. Draco said nothing on the ride home. He held her hand though, grateful that she was still alive. They pulled up to the hotel, slid out of the truck and wandered upstairs to their room. As was routine the past few days, Draco drew Hermione a bath and spent that hour putting up protection charms around the room, strong enough to ward off an entire regime of death eaters. Hermione laid in the bathtub, sinking under slowly, letting the water envelope her. Wondering if that was what it had felt like for her baby. Numb. Contemplating emerging herself in the tub and counting the bubbles that escaped her mouth until all she saw was black. When she dressed, she pulled her clothes over her head, gently, putting her hands on top of her flat stomach and trying not to cry.

At night, Draco and Hermione would sleep in the same bed. Blaise slept on the couch in the corner. They would not make love. They did not speak. Draco only held her hands while they stayed on their respective sides of the bed. He longed to hold her; crush her to him, because he was so scared. So scared because days ago, he thought he had lost her forever. He didn't know how she was feeling anymore.

Of course he was upset. He was upset over a lot of things. Losing the baby was just icing on top of the shit cake he called life. Sometimes he thought about letting the death eaters find him, but thinking of Hermione and how much he had grown to love her, stopped him. It never really stopped her, though. Once or twice he had found her in very compromising positions, although he could never bring himself to believe that she would actually kill herself. He didn't really know what to believe anymore. He kept thinking back to her house, the charred remains dressing her precious garden. Everything was black and wisps of putrid smoke.

Hermione did not sleep much anymore. She lost weight. Now, standing 5"3", Hermione resembled a holocaust victim versus a bright, famous wizard. She refused to eat, refused to speak. Hermione who, not more than 4 days ago, had been glowing, was a sight to be seen. Her skin was dry and flaky, covered in small red bumps. He hair was falling out in thick clumps that clung to her pillow in the morning and at night. Sometimes Draco could see flecks of dark purple nail polish in the corner of her mouth. She never smiled.

Hermione felt as though she were suspended in air. Spinning around in endless circles above everyone else's heads, out of reach. Sometimes she would have dreams that her daughter was walking around in her house. Draco was rolling around on the floor, playing with her while Hermione watched from inside a glass box. She never minded the box, because she got to see her daughter. But she could never touch Draco, even when he put his hand up against the glass and pressed down. Then Hermione would wake up in the morning, put her hand on her concave stomach, and turn over, shoving some clumps of hair in her pajama pants pocket until she could discretely throw it away in the rubbage bin, or flush it down the toilet.

Blaise was glad that everything was over. That the death eaters had been defeated, and that Almost everyone had survived. Everyone except the kid, of course. Ron and Daphne had come by to visit Hermione in the hospital, but Draco refused to let them visit her. She was catonic, and he knew that Ron would put some sort of stress on her, and that was the last thing he had wanted. Draco had already lost the most important person in his life, Blaise knew he did not feel like completely losing Hermione, either. Although he felt it was a little late for that, now. They refused to acknowledge what had happened. It was no one's fault, but it was hard to feel that way when you get used to having a little kid kicking around in your stomach for so long, only to have it disappear the next day, in a bloody mess. Literally and metaphorically. Draco and Blaise did everything they possibly could to keep Hermione and the baby safe. Although Blaise knew that Draco would never forgive himself for what had happened. It was his old best friend, who had killed the baby, after all.

Blaise wondered when it was all going to end. He wanted the silence and awkward avoidance of the subject of the final battle, to end. He hated avoiding things. He liked facing situations head on. Which was why Hermione's dancing around the issue bothered him so much. He spend a great deal of time with Draco, trying to piece him back together. He was the only one openly showing emotion. He did not cry. He dealt with his pain in a much different way than other people would. He was very angry. Blaise wondered if that was healthy, but he knew it was better than not feeling anything at all and pretending that nothing ever happened. Hermione walked around the hotel room like a ghost. Simply hovering in one place for a while, until Draco dragged her over to the couch or drew her a bath or tucked her in to get some sleep, even though Draco and Blaise both knew that she didn't sleep. They both woke with her during one of her nightmares.

Hermione was scaring Draco to death. He felt as though he already lost so much. He was emotionally spent and completely miserable. His anger and frustration forced him out of the stuffy hotel room and onto crowded London streets were he once found a complete stranger and beat him senseless, only to mend his broke, batter body, and obliviate him. Draco was running on empty.

Everyone was. And they all knew it.

The only thing all three had in common anymore was their desire to forget the events of the final battle. Erase it from their memory, forget it for all eternity. Hermione wished she could find the man that had hurt her and kill him. Draco wished Hermione would feel something, anything. He wished she would talk to him. Blaise wished that none of this had happened. He wished he could go back and change everything. He wished that the hotel had a better continental breakfast. He wished they had a swimming pool. He wished someone else had died in that fire, instead of the baby. Hermione wished the same thing for herself. She wished that she could die.

They all wish they could go back to four days ago. To that fateful battle; that final battle. Wish they could go back.

To be continued…

A/N: This is only a super short preview of what's to come. this IS a chapter. The next chapter is going to be everything that you guys have missed. R&R. take a look at the poll on my profile. Vote. Be heard.


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